Out of Sight, Out of Mind
by A Markov
Summary: Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is their love strong enough? Can they find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project puts everything to the test.
1. It's Going to be a Long Night

_**Author's Note: **__This is a sequel to "Vanishing Love" and picks up a few days after that story ends. So, before you read this story, you should go and read that one. It's a good story with lots of action, romance, intrigue, suspense, humor and hot lesbian sex. Well… there isn't a _lot_ of hot lesbian sex. I concentrated more on the action, romance, intrigue and suspense. But, there is _some_ lesbian "messing around" and a bit where Frozone is out with two gorgeous women at the same time! In any case, this is written with the assumption that you've watched "The Incredibles" and read "Vanishing Love." If you haven't, go do it now. This will still be here when you get back. _

_-Alex._

* * *

_**Author:**__ A Markov  
**Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
**Chapter: **__1/17**  
Summary:**____Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier._**  
Rating:**_ PG-13**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

Chapter 1 – It's going to be a long night

The rain soaked streets of Metroville reflected the lights of the buildings that never shut down. A lone taxi idled down an empty street past the featureless gray municipal buildings and trundled off, looking for a late night fare. The municipal complex had once been touted as a way to breathe life into the oldest part of the city, but by the time the government appointed architects and contractors had finished with it, the city ended up saddled with fifteen identical gray cubes arranged in a lopsided helix that was diabolically difficult to get into and nearly impossible to get out of. In fact the city had been forced to hire a towing service that came out every month to deal with the hundreds of cars that were abandoned by their owners after running out of gas while trying to find either a parking place or a way to exit the campus.

It had become so bad that the City Council, which met in a semi-exclusive up-town eatery, was considering passing an ordinance to prevent anyone from driving into the complex in the first place and the Board of Tourism was calling for the mayor to organize a militia to deal with the groups of roving tourists who had given up on the idea of ever finding their hotels and now lived on their wits and what little they managed to steal from the low level civil servants who couldn't afford cars and, therefore, walked into and out of the complex. At one point it had seemed like there was a solution to the traffic problem when one of the smarter council members called in the head of the towing company to find out how they got all the cars out. But it turned out to be a dead end when they discovered that the vehicles were not actually towed out. Instead, the towing company hired street punks to drive the cars through the basement of the Frank Thomas Memorial building and across one of the fields to the river where they were loaded onto a barge and shipped to Cuba in exchange for exclusive cigar importing rights. In the end, the council voted to post more signs directing traffic into the complex and to confiscate half of the towing company's profits so they could hold their meetings in a better restaurant.

Fortunately for the citizens of Metroville, not all of their civil servants are self-absorbed leeches. Take for instance, Special Agent Rick Dicker. He sits alone, a nondescript man, in a nondescript suit, at a nondescript desk, in a nondescript office on a nondescript floor of one of those nondescript gray buildings. It doesn't really matter which one. It's kind of hard to tell, but he's working hard.

Dicker blinked several times, trying to read the report on his desk. He looked up and realized the lights in the main office area had been turned off and there wasn't enough illumination coming in through his window to read by. He sighed and glanced at the clock as her reached for the lamp on his desk. It was late, even by his standards. The lamp's single incandescent bulb illuminated a surface crowded with neat piles of paper. Acknowledging to himself that there was nothing more to be gleaned from the incident report, he carefully placed it on the appropriate stack and began checking over the forms necessary to ensure that former agent Skippy Johnson would receive the care he needed. While his hands methodically took care of the mundane paperwork tasks, his mind raced. He turned over the events of the last few days, cataloguing the expressions and reactions of the people involved and calculating how they would likely react in the future.

Violet was young and in love. She was probably going to be dancing around like an idiot for a few months, enjoying life way too much for her own good and annoying the hell out of everyone around her. She'd likely throw herself back into the super-heroing gig with her family and bring their efficiency back up to snuff. Her upbeat mood would help her put the problems she was having with her mom behind her and hopefully inspire her to reach out to the older woman. With a little luck, she could even bridge the gap between Helen and Mirage. She might not be able to get them to be friends, but since they both really cared for her, maybe they would make a concerted effort to bury their animosity for her sake.

Mirage was a little harder to figure out. A month ago, he would have classified her as a mercenary. Time has a way of changing things. So does love. He thought back to the phone call she had made four… no five days ago now. She had been… determined… to give her bourgeoning relationship with the young super a chance. A chance she didn't think it had while she was on The Agency's payroll. She had been willing to give up everything and start over just so she wouldn't feel like she was betraying her friend. And, at the time, she didn't even know whether Violet was going to be waiting for her at the end of the day. It was a promising series of events, but trusting her was still a risk. He briefly toyed with the idea of continuing the surveillance program that Skippy had initiated but he knew it wasn't a good idea. From a legal standpoint, The Agency had no business sticking its nose that far into a private citizen's life. From a practical standpoint, there was too much chance of negative consequences if it was discovered. As a Department of Defense contractor, Chi Mera Industries and its owner were already the subject of a passive monitoring program with alerts for any level two financial transactions. That would have to be enough.

Bob was going to be fine. He'd be confused for a while, but as long as Helen accepted what was going on, he'd be tractable. This brought Dicker to the real crux of the matter, Helen. His hands paused their nearly automatic filling and filing. After a couple days at her parents' home, Violet had gone to pick up Mirage from the hospital today and they had both gone back to the blonde CEO's penthouse apartment. Dicker didn't know what Helen's mood would be like tomorrow. After a few minutes, he sighed and let his hands resume their tasks. He really had no way to predict how she was going to react to all of this. She had surprised him last week by volunteering to donate blood for Mirage's transfusion but she had also surprised him this past summer by attacking Mirage. Helen was headstrong and willful; she had to be to live with Bob. And she certainly wasn't the kind of person to let the events of the past summer go. She was also the center which all of the players in this little production revolved around. If she decided to be a thorn in the lion's paw, he was going to have one hell of an angry lion.

He glanced at the clock and did a quick calculation of the time zones. It was early morning in Paris. He picked up the phone and made a call to the only person he thought would have a chance to talk some sense into her. Even though he braced himself for the volume and enthusiasm, it still bowled him over.

"Richard, Dah-ling…! It has been such a long time. Tell me all about what you are doing now…"

* * *

Mirage lay on her left side. The smooth silk of her own sheets a welcome change from the coarse cotton linens of the hospital. The full moon streamed light through the windows, covering the room and everything in it in illusionary snow. There was a weight pressing on her outstretched left arm cutting off the circulation, but she couldn't bring herself to move it. She moved her gaze from the serene fake winter landscape to the source of the discomfort and shook her head in wonderment. She still couldn't believe that someone like Violet would think she was worth loving. Hesitantly, as though Vi might disappear if she moved too fast, Mirage gently touched the young woman's cheek. Her fingers brushed the smooth skin of Violet's brow and the young woman sighed and burrowed more deeply into Mirage's left side. Ignoring the tingling of her arm as the blood started flowing once more, Mirage tried to work out exactly what had happened to her and how she had managed to get so lucky.

They were back in her penthouse now. She had been very nervous about what Violet might expect from her on this, their first unchaperoned night together. But the young woman had merely snuggled up against her and fallen fast asleep. Mirage lay still, cherishing the weight in her arms and against her body, fearful that if she allowed herself to fall asleep, she would wake to find that it was all a dream. Doubt nibbled at her. Violet was young, only eighteen. What did she know of love? How long until she came to her senses and realized that dating an older woman with a sordid past was a mistake? Insecurity tied Mirage's stomach in knots. Tears leaked from her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. She pulled her head away from Violet's to keep them from dripping on the younger woman's face.

The motion disturbed Violet and her blue eyes opened. When she focused on Mirage, a sleepy smile lit her face. The blonde felt a tingle of joy run down her spine.

"Hey." Violet whispered and turned to face the blonde woman. Her hand reached up and stroked Mirage's face. She noticed the moisture and pulled back slightly so she could see better.

"You're crying…" Her left hand cupped Mirage's cheek and her thumb gently stroked away a tear that was making its way down the blonde's face. "What's wrong?"

A thousand thoughts sped through Mirage's mind. So many things she wanted to say, so many complex feelings, fears, desires, so many words…

"I'm scared." She blurted out. She bit her lip in frustration. That wasn't what she wanted to say. But once the words were out, she knew them for truth. And now the truth was out in the open, lying between them, naked.

Violet's brow furrowed. She was still mostly asleep. "Skippy's in jail… he can't…" Her voice trailed off in confusion as Mirage closed her eyes and shook her head. "My mom…?"

"No." it was a whisper.

"What are you scared of?"

"You."

"Me…?"

"Us."

"Us…?"

Mirage tried to find the words again, but they wouldn't come out. She couldn't explain and she was even more afraid that if she did manage to articulate it, Violet would see that she was right and leave at once. "Us." She managed to stammer out after a moment.

Violet tried to stifle a yawn. "I don't understand."

"I know. Just… just hold me... please."

With a satisfied smile, Violet obliged her and the blonde was able to relax slightly into the wonderful sensation of having someone she cared for stroking her head.

* * *

Chi's tears confused Violet, as did her semi-coherent explanation. Violet put it down to sleepiness and happily complied with Chi's request to be held. After a few minutes, she began stroking Chi's hair and humming a relaxing melody. A smile flitted across her face as she realized it was a song her own mother used to hum to calm her down.

Chi's scent filled her nostrils and she felt a tightening in her groin. The reaction scared her a little. She was still uncomfortable with her attraction to the woman in her arms and didn't know if she could do the things a lover would do. She tried imagining it. Kissing was O.K. In fact, kissing was great. She could definitely do kissing. Fondling was a little harder to wrap her mind around. It was very easy to imagine Chi fondling her, but harder to imagine herself as the aggressor. If there was a lot of kissing involved, she could probably do some fondling. Her mind balked at that point. She had a pretty good idea of what happened next and while the thought of Chi's gentle hands caressing her intimately was an exciting prospect, the idea that she would be expected to return in kind was more frightening than exciting.

Chi's breathing settled into a steady rhythm and Violet stopped stroking her hair. In the surreal light of the moon, Chi's pale skin looked like fragile alabaster. Violet reached out tentatively and cupped the sleeping woman's hand in her own. She had half expected the exposed skin to be cool to the touch but it was comfortingly warm. Chi let out a soft sigh. Violet curled up next to her and wondered if she could really go through with it. As she drifted off, she worried that even if she could work up the courage, would she be able to perform well enough to satisfy someone experienced like Chi?

* * *

Helen stared at the ceiling trying to force herself to accept the new direction her daughter's life was taking. The woman who had tried to seduce and kill her husband was now the object of her daughter's affection. Violet had reiterated that very clearly and at high volume today before she left to escort Mirage home from the hospital. It didn't make any sense. Violet couldn't really love that woman, could she? Try as she might, Helen couldn't deny the anguished look on her daughter's face last week as she had cradled Mirage's injured body in her arms. She also couldn't dismiss the selfless act that had almost proved fatal for the blonde. There was no way she could discount the fact that Mirage had willingly and unhesitatingly taken the brunt of the attack intended for her daughter. Absentmindedly, she rubbed the fading bruise on her arm where the phlebotomist had taken her blood for the transfusion. Why had she consented to… no… why had she volunteered? All she had to do was keep her mouth shut and Mirage would be… she wouldn't be a problem anymore. Violet was young. She would have gotten over it… eventually. Wouldn't she? Her daughter's grief stricken expression still haunted her.

Was it guilt over not doing more to prevent Kari from being sent away? Was it hope that Violet would find out about the gesture? If she did find out, would that heal the wound of their relationship? If that was all the reason why hadn't she just told Violet what she had done? She could have at least told Mirage. Let her know that she owed her life to the woman whose family she was intent on destroying. But that wasn't why she became a hero. She just wanted to help people, not make them feel obligated to her. And even in her own mind, the accusation that Mirage was trying to destroy her family rang false. The woman obviously cared a great deal for Violet; she wouldn't have been willing to sacrifice herself if she didn't. Violet obviously cared a great deal for her; she wouldn't have been so distraught over Mirage's injuries if she didn't. The emotion between the two young women was genuine; she could accept that… had to accept that. But how could she just sit there while that woman insinuated herself into her family? First with Bob, now with Violet. Was it something about being attracted to Supers?

Violet was already talking about inviting Mirage to dinner. A month ago, Helen would have been over the moon at the merest hint that Violet wanted to sit down with the family for dinner. Now the joy was tinged with dread. How could she sit across the table from… _that woman_… and eat? How could she sit across from her and do anything? She took a deep breath and rolled over. She had to concentrate on Violet. She didn't want to lose her daughter again. _Just concentrate on Violet,_ she told herself, _and it will be easy… easier… not quite as hard… doable… maybe_. Helen rolled over, again, and took another deep breath.

* * *

Kari woke up in a cold sweat. She bolted upright and immediately regretted it as the cold Nordic air chilled her to the bone. Gathering her blankets around her, she tried to remember the nightmare. There had been… fire… a bright light… and a droning voice. The voice was asking questions that just didn't make any sense to her, like they were in another language. She had been looking for something. There was something she was supposed to take care of, something important, but she had lost it. No, that wasn't right. It was acting strange… doing things it wasn't supposed to do. It was…

The answer danced around in the back of her mind tantalizingly close but ultimately, unreachable. Frustrated, she forced herself to step out onto the cold floor and made her way into the bathroom, the blankets from her bed clutched tightly and dragging behind her. She filled a cup with water and stared at her face in the mirror. It didn't look right. She examined it closely, trying to find the flaw. Frizzy red hair, large, expressive green eyes, cute button nose, small but determined mouth… It all fit together, but there was something missing. Finally she gave up and headed back to bed. When her head touched the pillow, the baby burst into flames and she bolted upright once more.

_The baby_!

Her blankets and sheets slid off the bed to the floor and she didn't even feel the cold. She was frightened, more frightened than she had ever been in her life. She looked around at her bedroom and out the window at the snow covered vistas beyond her house. This wasn't where she was supposed to be. Someone had taken her life. Someone had taken her memories and put her here. The baby was on fire, but it was giggling… The baby was doing all kinds of things that babies don't usually do. Floating… burning… There was a bright light and a lot of questions and then there was… nothing. She tried to remember her life before moving to Stavenger but every time she thought about it, she got confused. Someone had gone through a lot of trouble to make sure she didn't know who she was or where she came from… the baby was burning... giggling and burning… there was a dark haired girl with piercing blue eyes and a shy smile… a flash of light… a floating baby… blue eyes… shy smile… She shook her head to try and clear the images. Something was wrong with her memory. Her mind was playing tricks on her. She suddenly felt tired. As she pulled her blankets up around her, she could almost hear the droning voice telling her to forget about the baby, forget about the girl, forget about the voice… That was even scarier, but she couldn't do anything about it as sleep overcame her.

* * *

Bob slept like the dead.

* * *

_Next time: __The Morning After._


	2. The Morning After

_**Author:**__ A Markov**  
Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind**  
Chapter: **__2/17**  
Summary:**______Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier._**  
Rating:**_ PG-13**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

Chapter 2- The Morning After

Mirage came to consciousness slowly. Something was different. And that something was better, much better. The morning sun streaming through the windows chased away the shadows that had haunted the corners of her mind through the night. Violet was still with her, a reassuringly solid presence pressed against her left side. It was a rather hot and sweaty presence, but there was a pleasant overtone to the feeling. She felt completely safe and at ease. She became aware of warm breath tickling her neck and the comforting weight of an arm across her stomach. It was nice to wake up with someone and feel completely relaxed about it. She allowed herself a small chuckle and savored the knowledge that she wasn't going to be sneaking out early with her panties in a bunch at the bottom of her purse. She finally had a lover… well, technically they weren't lovers… _yet_… her mind added with a sensual growl and she felt a stirring in the pit of her stomach. She was suddenly very much aware of Violet's breasts crushed against her bicep and her left hand trapped between her own hip and Violet's abdomen.

Last night she had been worried about Violet's expectations. In the light of day, she found herself disappointed that there hadn't been any. A single beam of sunlight gleamed in the hollow of the dark haired girl's throat. Mirage felt her breath coming shorter and she reached across her body with her right hand to caress the patch of skin highlighted by the golden glow. Her fingers moved of their own accord along Violet's throat to where her neck and jaw met just below her ear. The dark haired girl shifted in her sleep and pushed into the questing hand with a contented sigh. Emboldened, Mirage allowed her hand to roam more freely, lightly caressing Violet's shoulder through the fabric of her tank-top… tracing the shape of her collar bone… sliding down her chest to the top of her breast. Violet's singlet prevented the sensation of skin on skin that Mirage so desperately desired at that moment but she contented herself with caressing the firm mound through the thin cotton material. When she moved her hand back up toward the dark haired girl's neck, she traced the path lightly with her fingertips. Violet sighed again and moved her body upward, following the promise of the caressing fingers. The movement placed Violet's mons firmly against Mirage's left hand and the blonde wasted no time in stretching her fingers out to apply gentle pressure to the sensitive area. She began moving the fingers of her left hand in small circles and slid her right hand back down to cup the fullness of Violet's breast. Her tongue darted out to wet her own lips as she leaned in and pulled Violet's lower lip between her own. She cherished the small moan that escaped the waking girl's lips as Vi returned the kiss with increasing ardor.

Violet's eyes snapped open and her body suddenly stiffened.

With a wild-eyed expression she flung herself out of bed and staggered back into the wall, one hand clutched across her breasts and the other splayed protectively in front of her crotch. Mirage's heart fell as she read the fear and disgust in the girl's face. She reached out to apologize but Violet fled the room. Mirage could hear the sounds of the bathroom door slamming and the lock being set. She mentally cursed herself for her lapse of self control. She should have waited until the dark haired girl made the first move, _but she had been so beautiful and her body so responsive…_ Mirage forced the thought out of her mind. She folded into a Lotus position to try and recover some of her equilibrium. She concentrated on taking deep, measured breaths and tried to let herself relax but Violet's revolted expression was burned into her minds eye. No matter which meditation technique she tried, she couldn't erase the image of Violet shrinking away from her. Her center eluded her. The sound of the shower running signaled the end of her concentration. An image of Violet's naked body streaming with soapy water came unbidden into her mind's eye and her physical frustration boiled up through the pit of her stomach and filled her body with nervous energy.

She was so keyed-up, her body was shaking. With a growl of frustration, she abandoned her attempt to calm her frayed nerves through meditation. She rolled out of the bed and began pacing back and forth. She couldn't stand still. Perhaps if she exhausted her body, her imagination would leave her alone. She dropped to the floor and started doing push-ups. She kept going until her arms were shaking so much she could barely hold herself up. Agonizing pain shot through the muscles in her arms and chest. Fireworks exploded behind her eyes as her body, still weak from her recent hospitalization, protested the abuse. When her arms refused to hold her up, she rolled over and started on crunches attacking each one with a fury born of frustration. When she couldn't lift her shoulders off the floor any more, she allowed her arms to flop down by her sides and lay there with her eyes closed trying to find her breath. Her forehead throbbed painfully. The room was spinning around her and her minds eye was washed out with vibrant spots. She felt Violet walking into the room but couldn't muster up the energy to say anything or even open her eyes. The pain in her chest was making it difficult for her to get a good breath.

"I'm sorry." Violet's voice was quiet and sounded like it was coming from far away. She almost couldn't make out the words over her own ragged breathing.

"Nothing to be sorry for." Mirage tried to sound nonchalant but it came out as a gasp. "I was out of line." She was sure that the pain in her chest was from over exertion. The room kept spinning.

"I just-"

"Don't worry about it." She growled as she rolled over onto her knees and laboriously pulled herself to her feet. The floor swayed and bucked underneath her.

"But I-"

"I'm going to take a shower." Mirage interrupted again. Her whole body ached. Still trying to catch her breath, she started for the bathroom but the world was still spinning out of control and she fell forward onto the floor.

* * *

Jack-Jack was finished spreading his breakfast all over his chair, table and face. Helen had just given him a few pieces of cheese to torture and started cleaning the dining area when the phone rang. "Bob! Can you get the phone?"

"Kinda busy here, honey."

Helen rolled her eyes and suppressed a growl of frustration. She didn't think that showing Dash how to conquer the Alpha Dungeon creatures of Ephemeral Ending 10 counted as "busy" but she also didn't feel like arguing about it. She stretched one hand into the living room to pick up the phone and brought it to her ear. "Hello—"

"Mom!" Violet's voice was shrill and full of panic. "ChifelldownandpassedoutIneed—"

"Calm down, sweetie," Helen tried to keep her voice even. "Slow down and tell me what happened…"

"Chi passed out! She was trying to… We had a fight… She tried to… but she fell… and I wanted to… but she fell…"

"Honey, you're not making any sense." Helen tucked the phone under her chin and began gathering her things. She let Jack-Jack out of the chair. "Go get daddy!" she whispered to him as Violet continued to talk in frantic half sentences. "Start from the beginning, Vi."

"She's hurt… I pushed her away… I ran away and now she's hurt… It's my fault."

"Vi, listen to me." Helen slipped into her 'mother' voice. "I'm on my way. Hang up the phone and call the paramedics."

Violet was quiet for several seconds. When she did speak, her voice held a slight note of contempt. "Mom, I'm not stupid. I called them before I called you."

"Of course you did, sweetie," Helen held up a hand to stave off Bob's questions as he entered the kitchen with Jack-Jack. "You just seemed to be a little frantic and I wasn't sure…"

"Can you come…?"

Helen's heart soared. Joy filled her chest to the point where she couldn't breathe. She tried several times to get the words out, but they just wouldn't come.

"Mom…?"

"I… I'm on my way," she managed to stammer out and hung up the phone. She stood there, stunned. There was a part of her that didn't believe it.

Bob took her gently by the shoulders and turned her to face him, "Where are you going?" he asked.

"Violet asked me to come over, Mirage is hurt."

"That's _great_… …uh… the part about Vi calling you… I mean…"

"I know what you mean, you big lug." She pulled him into an embrace. "I haven't felt this happy in a long time... though, I do hope Mirage is okay…" To her surprise, Helen found that she really meant it.

The trip across town seemed to take forever, but when Helen pulled into the parking garage under Mirage's building, she couldn't remember it. She rushed up to the penthouse, taking the steps one flight at a time. She was a little out of breath when she got to the top. The door to the apartment was standing open and there was a bunch of medical equipment in the foyer. Helen took it as a good sign. More equipment out here meant less equipment was needed for Mirage. She paused, surprised again by the fact that she was genuinely relieved to think that the blonde hadn't come to much harm. _Maybe I really __**can**__ do this_, she thought as she made her way toward the back of the apartment.

Mirage was lying in bed with two EMTs leaning over her. Violet was standing with a third EMT a few meters away from them. Helen's first thought was the impropriety of Vi was still wearing her pajamas when there were strangers in her house. That reminded her that Violet lived here now and she had probably been in the same bed as Mirage. _And they might have_… resentment flared in Helen's chest. _Okay… maybe I __**can't**__ do this_. But when Violet ran to her and embraced her, the resentment was pushed into the background.

"What happened, honey?" The question was really straightforward; there was no reason for Violet to get so flustered. The little voice in the back of her mind piped up, _unless they had been_… Helen shut down that thought and shook her head to get rid of the image.

The EMT that Violet had been speaking with came over to them. "Ms. Mera apparently over exerted herself exercising this morning."

Helen just couldn't help it. She turned to Violet and raised an eyebrow. Violet blushed and even deeper shade of purple and her eyes, already the size of saucers, got bigger. "_Mom_!" She managed to fit three syllables into the exclamation. "Not like _that_!"

The Medtech chuckled. "Fortunately, she didn't do any serious harm. She's still recovering from some kind of trauma she experienced last week, and…" he turned to look toward the bed and raised his voice slightly, "she ought to know better than to attempt strenuous exercise."

They all looked over at the blonde woman who had the temerity to giggle.

"Is there anything we need to be doing for her?" By now, Helen was almost used to feeling concern about the blonde. Her question didn't surprise her nearly as much as it surprised Violet.

"As I was telling Ms. Parr, she needs rest. Some light exercise is OK. Like walking, stretching stuff like that, but no more than fifteen minutes at a time and, for now, no more than four times a day. She has a follow up appointment scheduled for next week; her physician will be able to give her more details."

"Dietary restrictions?"

"I wouldn't recommend alcohol, but other than that…" he shrugged.

While they had been speaking, the other two EMTs had been gathering equipment and packing up. Helen glanced over at Violet and Mirage. Mirage was half-sitting, propped up on several pillows. Violet was curled up next to her, holding both her hands. Their foreheads were touching and the sound of whispering and giggling drifted across the room. Violet looked so happy, Helen couldn't help but be happy for her. If it was only Tony in that bed… or even Kari… _anyone_ that wasn't Mirage… She sighed and looked back at the EMT. The question was halfway out of her mouth before she even realized she was asking it.

"Was this because they were having…? Ah… I mean… can you…" Helen slapped her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. "Sorry," she growled, "none of my business. You don't have to answer that."

He gave her a sympathetic grin and tilted his head toward the door. She followed him out into the hallway and walked toward the foyer with him.

"Your daughter?" he asked.

"Yeah. I…"

He smiled and held up a hand. "Not to worry. Like you said; 'none of my business.'" Helen gave him a grateful smile and he continued, "If it were my business, or your business, I would probably point out that there was no evidence of coitus."

"Huh?"

He chuckled again. "It doesn't look like this was caused by them having sex."

"Uh, right." She managed to blurt out. "Thanks… uh…"

"We'll see ourselves out, Mrs. Parr."

Helen walked back toward the bedroom wondering if her face was as red as it felt. She paused in the doorway. Violet was saying something to Mirage. Helen couldn't hear the words, but Vi seemed to be very earnest and intense; it looked like she was apologizing. Mirage was hushing her, trying to be reassuring. _They are a cute couple_, the voice in the back of her mind insisted. _Shut up!_ It wasn't much of a retort, but it was all she could come up with.

"Violet, come help me make tea."

* * *

That evening, when Helen announced that it was time for her to go home, Violet felt a release of tension that she hadn't even known she was carrying. It had been a weird day. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to call her mom that morning, but it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. And, she _had_ felt better when her mom first got there, but after enduring an afternoon of awkward silences and baleful glares, she wasn't so sure anymore. She gave her mom a hug and promised, for the fifteenth time, to call if she needed anything. On her way back into the bedroom, she paused at the door, struck by how small and fragile Chi looked. A twinge of guilt stabbed at her. If she had been more receptive, if she wasn't such a prude, Chi wouldn't have over-exerted herself and had a relapse. It's not like she hadn't thought about it. She had even fantasized about it a little. But waking up to those feelings had been… scary. She tried to catch the blonde woman's eyes, but she was resting with them closed.

"That was nice," Violet said quietly. She didn't know if she was trying to convince herself or Chi. The blonde made a noise that, under the most polite of conditions, could have been described as 'dismissive.' Violet tried not to giggle. "O.K. maybe it wasn't 'nice.' But at least there wasn't any blood."

"She hates me."

"I think that's a little extreme, she just…" Violet paused, searching for the words that would describe how her mother felt.

"…hates me." Chi finished helpfully. The look she gave Violet was piercing and full of uncertainty.

Violet rushed to her side and reached out. "I don't." she said, softly.

"Don't you?"

"You mean this morning?" Violet mentally kicked herself; of course Chi was talking about the morning. "Chi… I…" she glanced away, embarrassed. "I'm just… not ready for that."

Chi reached out to her. "I know, Vi. I'm sorry for trying to rush things." Violet took her hands and sat down on the bed. Chi's tender smile stirred in her chest and her heart felt full. "You just looked so damn pretty…"

"With my bed hair and no make-up…?"

"Yes," Chi giggled, "with your bed head and no make-up, you look gorgeous."

"I'll try to be uglier."

"No, Vi," Chi's voice was a whisper, "you don't need to do that. I can wait until you're ready."

"I don't know…" Violet's lower lip trembled. "I want to… but… I don't know when…" She took a deep breath, "I've never—"

"Oh, Vi!" Chi's soft expression of regret cut off Violet's words. "I didn't know. I thought you and Kari…"

Violet shook her head. Her face pointed down, hidden behind her long black hair. "Kari kissed me once and... I kinda… freaked out. Then I tried to, you know… kiss her and… we did… and it was nice… but my dad walked in and… _he_ kinda freaked out... and…" Violet shrugged. "…then she was in Norway."

"So you've never…?" Violet shook her head vigorously. "What about with a boy?"

Violet gave another head shake. "Tony felt me up a couple times, but…"

Chi smiled again and laid her slender fingers gently on Violet's cheek. She raised the young woman's face until she could look into her eyes. "It doesn't matter to me. I can wait until you feel ready and I don't want you to feel any pressure about this." Violet nodded. "Vi, I mean it. No pressure. I don't want to drive you away."

Violet turned her face into Chi's hand and pressed her lips against the blonde woman's palm. "I don't want to go anywhere." She whispered.

Chi gently pulled Violet down next to her on the bed and carefully wrapped her arms around the young woman. Snuggled together, neither of them had a problem dropping off to sleep.

* * *

_Next Time: Back in the saddle  
_

_**A/N-** I forgot to thank my hard working Beta readers last chapter. So I want you all to know that this wouldn't be here without the help and encouragement of Emily, Lawrence, Lucy and Matt. _


	3. Hair of the Dog

_**Author:**__ A Markov**  
Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind**  
Chapter: **__3/17**  
Summary:**______Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier._**  
Rating:**_ PG-13**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

Chapter 3- Hair of the Dog

Violet had her hands and arms full when she came into the apartment. There really wasn't anywhere to set down the grocery bags that occupied her arms or the lap-top dangling from her left hand. She had her key chain clenched between her teeth and she could feel a little pocket of drool forming in her mouth. She was beginning to regret that she had turned down the doorman's offer of assistance. Hurriedly, she kicked her shoes off and slid them in the shoe place with her toes. Then she leaned over the occasional table and dropped her keys into the little bowl that was there for that purpose. She wiped her mouth on her shoulder as she made her way into the kitchen. From down the hall, she could hear Chi crisply giving out orders. Being forced to stay at home for the last week hadn't slowed down the blonde woman's drive. With a smile, Violet pictured the bedroom. Chi would be sitting up in the bed, supposedly resting, surrounded by lap-tops, notebooks and cell phones. Her assistant was probably near the window, by the fax machine. Violet chuckled as she set the groceries down on the kitchen's central island and reached over to the stove to turn on the kettle.

By the time she had put away the groceries and pulled out a couple of mugs, the water was ready. She looked over the tea selection and chose Constant Comment for Chi, Black Currant for herself. She cut several slices off of the wedge of Wensleydale in the fridge and grabbed a handful of seasoned water crackers. She arranged everything on a small wooden cutting board and carried it down the hall. Chi was sitting just as she had pictured her; house phone in her right hand, the other hand resting delicately on the blue-tooth device in her left ear. There were two computers on the bed with her and enough papers that the comforter was almost completely hidden.

Violet hesitated in the doorway. The large screen TV that had been set up temporarily on the dresser was displaying what looked like a conference room with at least a dozen people around a large polished table. The diamond-themed logo of a well known marketing company was prominently displayed on one wall and the Pacific Ocean was visible through the windows that spanned another wall. Violet had been surprised when Chi told her she was going to attend a teleconference from her bed today. Now, looking at the way the people in the San Diego office were attired, the blonde woman seemed a little over-dressed. Violet watched the people on the screen for a few seconds, trying to figure out if they could see her. A couple of days ago she had walked into the kitchen on morning and greeted Chi with a little kiss only to find out the whole thing was being broadcast to a board room in Tokyo. It hadn't been anything risqué or passionate, Violet still didn't feel ready for that. Just a little "good morning" peck on the lips that happened to be an accidental public display. It didn't seem to faze any one. It was as though this sort of thing happened all the time. And maybe it did, just not to her. Fortunately, she'd taken the time to throw on a robe that morning, but it had still been pretty embarrassing.

Chi hung up the house phone and beckoned her into the room. Violet, still a little gun shy, pointed to the screen with a question on her face. Chi's grin just got bigger and she beckoned more emphatically. The blonde woman closed one of the lap-tops and handed it to her assistant then moved a stack of papers to clear a spot next to her on the bed. With her free hand she smoothed the fabric of the comforter and patted it, indicating that Violet should join her. Violet glanced at the screen again; none of the people on it seemed to be paying any attention to the camera. _Chi must not be broadcasting_, she thought as she made her way over and offered the cutting board to the blonde. Chi picked up her mug and collected a quick kiss from Violet before taking a sip of tea.

Violet started to ask the blonde about her day but Chi held up a finger then reached up and touched the Blue-tooth in her ear, "Stop talking for a minute and listen, Matt," she said authoritatively. "I've got twelve people in California who are waiting for the State Legislature to make their decision public. I know they've already voted _and_ I know how the vote went. What I _don't_ know is when Jenny Mendelsom is going to get off her butt and issue a public statement…"

Chi rolled her eyes and gave Violet a little pout, staring longingly at the cheese. She held up her mug and turned slightly to emphasize that her other hand was on the bud in her ear then looked pointedly at the tray before glancing once more at Violet with a playful pout. Violet giggled and placed a slice of cheese on one of the crackers then, with exaggerated care, brought it up to Chi's mouth.

Chi pulled back slightly. "Matt… Matt… _Matt_! Get on the horn to Senator Clamshed and tell him that three hundred jobs are going out of state because Jenny Mendelsom in public relations has to go get her bikini line waxed before she releases the Legislator's… yes… I know that's not what you said," Chi rolled her eyes again, "It's what _I_ said... _And_ it's what I want you to say to the Senator… Yes, you can tell him I said it… Thank you." She tapped the device in her ear and leaned in to take the morsel from Violet's outstretched hand.

When she finished with it, she leaned in and collected another kiss. "Thanks, Vi." she murmured, "One more, please…?"

As Violet busied herself making another bite, Chi raised her voice, "Did you get all that, Lucy?"

"Yes, Chi." The voice came from the speakers on the TV set. Violet froze. "When do you think they'll make it public?"

"Well, Clamshed is up for reelection in a few months, I'm guessing there'll be a preliminary statement before close of business out there where you are. You think we can get this thing written up overnight and seal it by lunch your time tomorrow?" Chi kept her eyes firmly locked on Violet's while she spoke. Violet sat stock still, wondering if Chi was embarrassing her like this on purpose.

From the TV's speakers, Lucy laughed. "You're a tough cookie, Chi. Tomorrow is definitely doable. I can't get it ready by lunch though, I've got a meeting I can't miss tomorrow morning…"

"Going surfing?" Chi reached out and covered Violet's hand gently.

"With my godson; he thinks he can show the old lady up. Tell you what, if the official statement is in line with what you've predicted, I'll fly you out here for dinner tomorrow and we'll sign in person."

"Always a pleasure, Lucy."

"Same to you, Chi."

"Oh, before you sign off, I want you to meet someone…" Violet's eyes got huge and she mouthed, _No_, to Chi. "This is my 'uh-friend,' Violet." That got a little grin out of the dark haired girl. On the night they had banded together to rescue Violet's mother, she had introduced Chi to her brother as an "uh-friend." Now the blonde teased her about it every chance she got.

Violet's amusement was short lived. She clenched her teeth and rolled her eyes at the blonde. _Why are you doing this to me_?

"Turn around, Vi, so Lucy can see you."

_NO_!

Chi turned to the camera, "She's gregarious to a fault and she just _loves_ surprises," she continued, needling the younger woman.

With a last look of promised retribution, Violet took a deep breath and turned to face the webcam. "Hello," she said, and gave a perfunctory wave.

"It's so nice to finally meet you." Lucy said with a big smile. She was a tall, tanned woman with long black hair. She looked incredibly fit and certainly didn't look old enough to have a son, let alone one that would be old enough to challenge her to a surfing contest. "I've heard so much about you, all of it good." She glanced at Chi and put on a mock-serious expression, "In fact, it was all _so_ good that I was beginning to think she was making you up… Oh! What an amazing shade of red! Chi, she is too precious. Bring her tomorrow."

"I am _so_ going to get you for this." Violet whispered as she fled from the room with as much dignity as she could muster.

* * *

Helen sipped her tea and glanced over at Edna with exaggerated casualness to judge her reaction.

"So," the diminutive woman stared back at her impassively from behind her thick glasses through half lidded eyes, "she is living with this woman that you thought was trying to steal Bob from you…?"

"Yes, and I don't know what to do about it. It's tearing me up inside."

Edna looked at the growing pile of tissue on the counter and made a mental note to invest in a paper company. "Snap out of it, Dah-ling. What does it matter if she is shacked up with this woman? What does it matter if she is shacked up with a hundred women? Does it mean she loves you any less? You are her mother! Act like it."

"I've tried, I told her—"

"_Told_ her…? You _**told**_ her…?" Edna drew herself up to her full height and waved one hand dismissively. "She is young and rebellious; she will do nothing you tell her, Dah-ling. Remember your own mother!"

"Oh, god! Don't remind me."

"Then you already know what I am talking about here, Dah-ling. Besides, this sort of behavior is nothing new…"

"What do you mean…? Violet…?"

"Of course not!" Edna waved dismissively, "But you do remember the way things were before... hmmm?"

"Before…? Before what?"

"Before you all went underground, of course. Surely you went to the parties and saw what was going on."

"I never really went to any of the parties… wait, you mean some of the Supers were…?"

"No! Dah-ling, I would never spread such rumors. For instance, I would never tell you what Stratogirl offered me to design her costume. 'I don't have any money,' she said, 'maybe we could come to an _arrangement_…?' I pretended I didn't understand, of course."

"Stratogirl was—"

"Stratogirl wasn't anything, Dah-ling. I don't speak ill of the dead. It's bad luck."

"But you're telling me that Stratogirl was… Edna Mode, stop teasing me this instant!"

"I'm not teasing Dah-ling." Edna studied her over the rim of her tea cup. "You always were a little stand-offish, perhaps you did not know this thing but, surely, even _you_ knew about Metaman?"

"What about him?"

"You didn't think 'Metaman' was originally one word, did you?"

"One word?"

Edna continued as though she hadn't been interrupted, "Imagine… forced into the life of a super hero by a thoughtless comment to your mother…"

Helen spewed tea all over the counter. "Edna, I don't believe a word of what you're saying!"

"Me either, Dah-ling, because I'm not saying anything… anything at all."

"Edna Mode…!"

"Forget about the past, Dah-ling and think about the bright side."

"What bright side is that?"

"She probably never wanted to sleep with Bob…"

Helen was speechless. She started to say something several times but stopped each time as there really was no argument for Edna's last words. Finally she sat back and indulged in a laugh. It was a genuine laugh, the first she'd had in months and it felt great.

"There, Dah-ling. You needed that, no?"

"Yes. Thank you, Edna. I should have—" she was interrupted by a faint beeping. "Oh!"

"What is it, Dah-ling?"

"It's the Incrediphone. I have to—"

"Go, Dah-ling, take care of this little crisis."

"Edna, I…"

"Go! We will talk next week, no?"

With a grateful smile Helen slipped into her costume and headed downtown.

* * *

"Would it be too much to ask for a villain who used water?" Mr. Incredible complained as he ducked underneath a rapidly expanding fireball.

"What?"

"Last time it was that electricity guy, and the time before that it was the molten lava…" he paused, looking for the right word, "…thing." He finally managed. "I'm just saying, I'd rather be wet than burnt. And, where the heck is 'Zone when we need him?"

Mr. Incredible knocked the top off of a fire hydrant and directed the gushing plume of water at a woman wielding flamethrowers. She saw what he was up to just in time and dodged out of the way. Unfortunately, Elastigirl had been sneaking up behind the fire bug and Mr. Incredible's impromptu geyser struck her full in the chest. She flew backward through a plate glass window into a sporting goods store. Basketballs, soccer balls, footballs and tennis shoes floated past her as she tried to regain her footing.

"The likes of you cannot hope to defeat the Fire Brigade!" the stocky woman gloated as an even larger man, dressed out in similar fire producing gear joined her.

Speedy entered the scene at full tilt and began circling them. His passage created a small but devastating tornado affect around them, shifting debris and raising a large amount of dust. Soon there was an unhealthy pall in the area and no one could see anything.

"Keep it up, son." Mr. Incredible yelled, "I think we've got 'em n—" A tongue of flame arced out of the whirling dervish in front of Speedy and he screamed as his momentum carried him right through it.

Mr. Incredible charged through the dust storm to where he thought the attack had come from. As he entered the region of limited visibility, an explosion rocked the street in front of him and a large sedan emerged from the dust storm to catch him in the chest. Caught off guard, he went down and the car landed on top of him. He looked up into the nozzle of a flame thrower and mentally said his goodbyes to his eyebrows. An elongated arm came out of the shadows and pushed the nozzle up and away from him just as it ignited. He could feel the heat on his face, but that seemed a lot better than feeling the flames on his face. He shrugged off the wrecked car and reached for the villain in front of him but a burst of flame caught him from the side and knocked him off balance.

Elastigirl's fist connected and the heavily muscled woman went down hard. Her partner leapt over her with a grace that was astounding from such a large man and sent an expanding ball of flame at her twisting athletic form, forcing Elastigirl to retreat into an alcove formed by a doorway. As the dust cleared, his partner was no where to be seen.

Speedy's return to the fray was heralded by a loud Tarzan yell and the sound of breaking glass as the speed of his approach dramatically changed the air pressure around him. This time he managed to avoid the wall of fire the burly man sent out at him, but as he went by, the woman jumped out of her hiding place and sent a fireball toward the young super. The flaming sphere got caught up in the turbulence behind him and started following him around. His yell transformed into a yelp as he tried to get away from the fireball chasing him. For its part, the fire swirled around in the low pressure area behind him and fed off the turbulent air of his passing. He was afraid to slow down.

Mr. Incredible recovered quickly and jumped to his feet. He brought both hands down in a hammer and created a wave in the street that threw both of the villains and Elastigirl into the air. Elastigirl stretched out and grabbed onto a light post with one hand while wrapping the other around the flailing woman. She kept the heavy woman off-kilter while Mr. Incredible wrapped the man up in his own flame-throwing gear. That probably would have been the end of the fight if Speedy hadn't picked that moment to come screaming by. The wind of his passage knocked everyone off balance and the flame shooting villainess recovered first. She pointed both nozzles at the still dazed heroes and her own partner and lit them off full blast.

When the smoke cleared her triumphant sneer was replaced by a puzzled look. Mr. Incredible, Elastigirl and her very upset partner were sitting in front of her, completely unharmed. The tell-tale shimmer of a force field let her know what had happened and she looked around in vain for Invisigirl. Everyone else paused in awe as the restrained man expressed his feelings about being nearly fried by his soon to be ex-partner.

Elastigirl extended a hand and wrapped it around the man's mouth to muffle the string of curses. "There are children present, young man!" she admonished him severely. Mr. Incredible picked him up and prepared to give him a lesson in civility but it was interrupted.

"Dad, put him down and get over to the hydrant. We need a heavy mist." Invisigirl's disembodied voice came to them. "Mom, lay down a flurry. Keep her occupied!" Invisigirl shimmered into view and a twinkling bubble formed around the fireball chasing her brother. "Speedy, stop fooling around with that fireball and come help us! Everyone… plan 'F'" The smallest member of the team stopped in his tracks and let the force field contained fireball, roll over him and dissipate.

"Aha! I'm so glad you showed up, Invisigirl. It wouldn't have been the same if you weren't here to share in your family's destruction."

"You look familiar, do I know you?"

"Not yet, but soon everyone will know me, I'll be the woman who killed the Incredibles!"

"Mabel…? Mabel Thompson…?"

"That's not my name any more. Now you can call me 'Flam Mabel: Super-Slayer!'"

Speedy and Invisigirl exchanged a glance. "That's actually a cool name," he said with a shrug.

"NOW!" Invisigirl yelled. Mr. Incredible put his hands into the geyser coming out of the fire hydrant, but instead of directing a steady stream of water at the villain, he created a mist in the air. As the mist turned into a light fog, Elastigirl began extending out toward the flame thrower laden girl in dozens of light attacks. None of them were powerful, but there were so many, that Flam Mabel was too busy dodging to bring her weapons to bear on anyone. Invisigirl added to her problems by creating marbled-sized force fields under her feet and making it more difficult for her to keep her balance.

"Got it, Invisigirl!" Speedy's voice rang out.

"_Now_," Invisigirl shouted, "close in!"

The mist cleared as Mr. Incredible left his post at the hydrant and headed toward Flam Mabel. Elastigirl stopped extruding pseudo pods and flowed toward her as well. Flam Mabel brought up her flame throwers and laughed as she activated them. Her laughter died in her throat when nothing happened. By the time she realized they'd been disabled, Elastigirl had her wrapped up and Mr. Incredible had removed the harness holding them on her back.

As the police moved in and quickly bundled the firebugs into a waiting squad car the Incredibles gathered around Invisigirl. Every one of them had a wide smile.

"I don't know what we'd have done without you, hon." Mr. Incredible beamed.

"You showed up just in time, dear." Elastigirl added.

"That was the most awesomest plan _EVER_!" Speedy shouted. When he saw the disapproving looks of his parents and his sister's barely contained amusement he asked, "What? Is that laying it on too thick?"

Invisigirl's smile lit her entire face as she gathered her family around her. "I know you guys miss me, but you don't have to throw your fights to get me to show up. You've got my cell number."

* * *

_Next Time: Sunny California._


	4. Californication

_**Author:**__ A Markov**  
Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind**  
Chapter: **__4/17**  
Summary:**______Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier._**  
Rating:**_ PG-13**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

Chapter 4- Californication

As Violet prepared to board the plane with Chi, she was reminded of a quote she'd read some where. "Rich people are just like you and me, except they have more money."

Obviously, whoever said that had never taken a commercial flight with a rich person or he would have probably said something more along the lines of: "Rich people are just like you and me, except they don't have to wait in that super long line at the security check point that never seems to move behind the guy who can't figure out that he actually does need to take _all_ of his keys out of his pockets before he goes through the metal detector and then doesn't remember that he has a steel plate in his left buttock until after his fifteenth try. Instead, they wait in over-stuffed easy-chairs and sip sweet sparkling wine while a masseuse gently kneads their shoulders and some poor underpaid schmuck schleps their heavy bags around the terminal while the cute flight attendants fluff pillows for them so they can sit comfortably as soon as they board the plane and watch all the unfortunate poor people stuck in business class struggle to drag their over-packed carry-ons to their tiny hard seats in the back of the plane."

Or maybe he wouldn't have, but he sure would have been thinking it. Violet thought about it several times. She wasn't a jet-setter by any stretch of the imagination, having flown commercially only twice before, but she was certain that this way was much better. She did feel a little pang of guilt as they were whisked to the head of the boarding line and ushered into first class, but not enough to give up her big comfy seat to someone else.

Los Angeles was everything Violet thought it would be; gorgeous weather in the middle of winter, stretched limousines lined up around every block, beautiful people everywhere you looked and celebrities slapping cops and waiters at the drop of a hat. Well, someone who looked vaguely familiar slapping a waiter dressed like a cop at the drop of a salad fork, but it was close enough.

Dinner with Lucy was both entertaining and embarrassing in equal doses. Lucy and Chi had obviously known each other for a long time but Violet couldn't tell if they were good friends or friendly rivals. Their conversation was definitely charged with a certain amount of tension. They were verbally sparring, engaged in a kind of one-upsmanship game. But comprehension of the basis and rules of the game evaded Violet. As near as she could tell, the object was to see which of them could make their date turn the brightest shade of red. Chi was definitely ahead on points early. Lucy's dinner companion, a blonde woman named Amy, took everything the energetic brunette said without batting an eye, occasionally tossing a verbal volley back at her with an ease and familiarity that Violet could only envy. Violet got the idea that she was supposed to play too, but she just felt lost and a little stupid.

Fortunately, Amy picked up on her discomfort and laid a gentle hand on Lucy's arm. "I think Violet is getting bored listening to you talk about the past. I know I am." She took the sting out of her words with a bright smile. "Why don't you tell them about your surprise?"

Violet gave her a grateful smile. Amy winked back and leaned in toward her conspiratorially, "If you let the two of them really get going, we'll be here all night and at the end of it, someone will be crying." She said in a stage whisper.

When Chi and Lucy protested loudly, she continued, "Don't tell me you've both forgotten about the incident at Lawrey's. The two of you reduced the head waiter to tears and the entire kitchen staff threatened to quit if either of you ever came back." A small frown flitted across her face. "Also, we had to pay for the donkey." She staved off any protests with a raised hand and a determined expression. "If you two are going to keep playing this little 'mine is bigger' game, Violet and I are going to take the car and go some place fun."

The evening continued in a more relaxed atmosphere. Chi and Lucy didn't stop trying to out-do each other, but at least they stopped trying to embarrass their dates. Instead they began swapping stories that Violet was sure they were making up on the spot. She didn't see how it was possible for Chi to have been member of the President's personal secret service detachment, and she didn't believe for one minute that Lucy had tried to blow up Australia. At least they were leaving her out of it and their tales, while wildly unlikely, were entertaining. The wine that was served with desert was sweet and light. Violet drank two glasses.

* * *

Rick looked up from the report on his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. Kari, he refused to think of her as "Subject number four-thousand-three-hundred-fifty-two," was demonstrating signs of mal-adjustment to the memory alteration process. The passive psychic monitoring and reinforcement devices installed throughout her house should have been registering a slowly decreasing pattern of activity as she adjusted to her surroundings and her new memory set gradually became permanent. The graphs he was studying told a completely different and altogether unsettling story. Initialization had gone as predicted, following the expected indexes. But something had gone wrong a month ago, and instead of a gradual tapering off, the units were seeing an unprecedented increase. It was almost as if someone or something was deliberately working to reverse the process.

Carefully, he scanned the documentation pertaining to the Mckeen family's relocation, hoping to find some indication that there was a mistake made in the process. If he could figure out that something had been missed or that a portion of the procedure had been performed incorrectly, it would mean that they could go in and salvage the operation with a minimal cost of time and money. If he couldn't find any mistakes in the way it had been executed, the entire system would be called into question. Thousands of people would be exposed to immediate personal danger and hundreds of agents and Supers would be threatened with exposure.

Three hours later he let out a resigned sigh. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before he requested a random sampling of "adjusted subjects'" records and the daily logs of monitoring and reinforcement activity for the last three months. He bundled the reports on the Keen family and earmarked them for another audit. There were younger agents with better eyesight and a different perspective. He hoped one of them would be able to find an error he had overlooked. When he saw the number of files that the system calculated made up a significant sampling, his hopes turned to prayers. With another sigh, he keyed for a print out of the list and made a new pot of coffee while he waited for the records department to deliver the first of many files.

* * *

Violet had a serious case of the giggles. Since they'd left the restaurant, each situation was funnier than the last, starting with the billboard advertising a local actress on top of the restaurant and growing from there. The limo driver's suit, the nameplate on the mini-fridge in the back of the limo, the fat lady walking her miniature Chihuahua, and the search for the keycard for their room all sent her into fits of hysterical giggling. Even her attempts at trying not to giggle were hilarious.

Chi shook her head, "How much of the wine did you drink, Vi?"

"Two glasses!" Violet sang.

"Why don't you sit out on the balcony and get some air. I'll be out in a moment."

Violet swirled around the room and flowed out the sliding door to the balcony. Her first glimpse of the sun setting into the ocean cured her giggles. She let out an involuntary gasp of pleasure and sat down on the bench, enraptured by the brilliant colors spread out across the entire horizon. She almost didn't notice when Chi joined her.

"Is this the first time you've seen the sun set over the ocean?"

Vi just nodded. In her tipsy state, she thought she could almost feel the vibrant colors washing over her. The sensation was tantalizingly erotic.

Chi took her hand gently and they sat quietly, watching the sun sink beneath the waves, fingers entwined. From the beach below them, sounds of revelry floated up from the hotel's restaurant terrace. Snippets of laughter, the clink of glasses and the scrape of silverware on china mingled with the music of the sea; lapping waves, distant fog horns and the occasional dull gong of a bell. Far overhead a gull circled.

Chi broke their silence. "What do you think?" She asked softly.

"I thought it'd be bigger."

Chi shook her head and blinked her eyes. "What?"

"I thought it would be bigger." Violet insisted seriously.

Confused, Chi glanced around. "The sunset?"

"The Ocean."

Chi looked at Vi in astonishment. The young woman managed to keep a straight face to several seconds but then the corner of her mouth turned up just a bit. She looked away quickly, but not before Chi could see the smile desperately trying to break free. Violet snorted once and tried to turn it into a cough. Chi remained motionless and completely silent. Violet risked a glance but was unable to maintain her composure. As soon as she turned toward the blonde, Chi pantomimed being caught on a hook and reeled in. They both broke up and began laughing.

When their laughter wound down, Chi took a playful swat at Violet. "I thought it'd be bigger..." The wind changed bringing with it snippets of live music from further down the beach. Chi stood abruptly, bowed and extended a hand to Violet. "Shall we dance, Funny Lady?"

Violet took the proffered hand daintily and gave a little curtsey. "I'd be delighted."

At first they moved in an exaggerated Waltz, humming along with the bouncy tune, whirling and twirling around in the close confines of the balcony. After a couple verses the wind changed again and the music died away. They picked up the tune themselves and continued dancing enthusiastically until Chi shouted "Dip!" She gathered Violet in her arms and the younger woman leaned back until her hair brushed the balcony floor. As she came back up, she lost her balance and stumbled into Chi. The blonde woman clutched her instinctively and she found herself pressed against Chi's body, gazing into her sparkling green eyes from only a few inches away. Violet's breath caught in her throat and her mouth dried out. The moment stretched but neither woman made any attempt to move away from the other. Finally, Chi began humming a soft song and, still holding Violet firmly against her, began swaying slowly.

"Oh, Chi…" All Violet had to do was relax slightly and their lips met, softly at first but with a growing urgency. Violet gave herself to the kiss and surrendered to the desire awakening in her body. With one hand, Chi held her firmly close while the other gently stroked her neck and the hollow of her throat. Her own hands slid down to rest at the small of the blonde's back and she tightened her grip, willing herself to be even closer. Hungry for more, Violet opened her mouth and her tongue darted between Chi's lips; touching… tasting… the sensation of the older woman's tongue entwined with hers sent electricity through her entire body. Or maybe it was the warm hand, gently cupping her breast. She covered Chi's hand with her own and pressed into it, eagerly willing the blonde's caress to be stronger. When Chi's thumb slid across her nipple, her knees buckled and she clung, trembling, to the older woman's slight frame.

It all felt so wonderful that she didn't want it to stop, but her fear wouldn't leave her alone. "No…" She whispered, pulling away slightly.

"Violet…?" Chi's voice came from far away.

"I want to…" Tears welled up in her eyes. She closed them and buried her face in Chi's neck. "I want you… to… but… I… don't think I can…"

"You don't have to do anything, Vi." Chi's assurance poured into her and covered her like a soft blanket.

"But…?"

Chi's mouth covered hers in a soft kiss. "Just lay back and let me love you, Vi."

The husky whisper sent shivers of anticipation throughout Violet's body. In answer, she pressed her self more deeply into Chi's caress. The blonde needed no more encouragement and began an intimate exploration of Violet's body that left the younger woman gasping in pleasure. Time and time again, Violet found herself clinging to the blonde as waves of ecstasy poured over her until she lay back, exhausted.

Violet was vaguely aware that Chi left her alone on the bed and, for a moment, she wondered if she had done something wrong. Then, as abruptly as she had departed, the blonde was back. She pressed a cool, damp cloth to Violet's forehead then gently wiped down the young woman's entire body. The washcloth felt coarse on her sensitive skin but the contrasting sensation was heavenly. Completely sated and feeling well cared for, Violet's consciousness slowly faded.

* * *

Coming out of the briefing room, Rick winced as the rising sun glinted off the handle of the empty coffee pot, partially because the pot was empty and partially because it was pretty damn bright and he wasn't expecting it to be morning yet. He muttered under his breath as he went through the ritual of making another pot and tried to organize his weary thoughts into something cohesive he could present to his boss. The good news was that the program was sound, and Kari was an anomaly. It was the only good news. The psyches weren't sure what would happen to the young woman's mind if they pulled the plug on the system. They were divided between cutting her off as soon as possible and keeping her hooked up until The Agency could dispatch a team to the house in Norway.

The nearest extraction team was eighteen hours away.

He sipped the too-strong, bitter coffee and contemplated his options. His revere was interrupted by a young tech and the expression on her face was evidence enough that he wasn't going to like what she was bringing him. He glanced down at the readouts she handed him and started to speak. His brain caught up with his mouth just before he said anything and he turned his gaze to the readouts once more. After a few minutes, he spoke without looking up.

"This is not supposed to be possible."

"We don't understand it, sir. But we ran the simulation three times and they all came out just like this."

Each monitoring and reinforcement system was individually programmed and tailored for a specific person or group. Each independent system was tied into The Agency's monitoring program through a read only circuit. Somehow, whatever was fighting against the conditioning in Kari's mind was not only undoing all the hard work they'd put into her family's relocation, it was feeding back through the monitoring and reinforcement devices in her house and affecting the entire system. The trending showed a minimal effect on the main system so far, but it was also showing a steady rate of increase. Cutting her off from the system might damage her mind permanently, but she was only one person. If they left her hooked into the system for the next eighteen hours until an Agency team made it to her house, the entire system could be compromised.

There really wasn't any choice at all.

"Shut down the M-A-Rs at the Mckeen residence."

At least that would stop whatever was happening from messing up the entire system. They'd deal with the short and long term affects on Kari as best they could. He loitered in the control room until the technician finished and flashed him the thumbs up. He straightened his tie and smoothed the wrinkles in his sports coat with his hands then picked up his report. He had almost made it to the door when every alarm in the room went off at once.

* * *

_Next Time: Wake-up call  
_


	5. Blast from the Past

_**Author:**__ A Markov  
**Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind**  
Chapter: **__5/17**  
Summary:**______Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier._**  
Rating:**_ PG-13**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

Chapter 5- A Blast from the Past

Gilbert Hugh carefully lined up the fifth No. 2 pencil with the fifth vertical line on his desk-top organizer. A scowl of irritation crossed his face. The pencil was fully two millimeters shorter than the other four. He allowed himself a few seconds to shake his head ruefully at the shoddy quality control practices of the pencil manufacturer before carefully weighing his options. He could simply discard the pencil and remove a fresh one from the pack but that would be wasteful and the Board of Directors at Insuracare would not look kindly on that kind of wanton disregard for their financial interests. He could sharpen all of the pencils, taking care to ensure that they all turned out a uniform length but that would require several minutes of his precious time and the electric sharpener had been acting dodgy lately. He wasn't entirely confident that it would allow him the kind of precision control needed to produce a precise cut and there was always the possibility of a soft spot in the wood of the pencil that might produce an unseemly burr. If the lack of uniformity in length was any indication of the way the pencil manufacturer did business, it was likely that there would be variations in the quality of the wood as well. He finally decided to place the offending pencil in the center of the formation. That would create a symmetrical pattern that was still pleasing without any wasting any of the company's precious time or resources. When he finished rearranging the pencils, offsetting the jarringly undersized one slightly to de-emphasize its shortcoming, he pulled out his voice recorder and dictated a note to purchasing recommending that the company seek another source for their pencils.

Satisfied that the current crisis would be seen to, he began going over the weekly reports. What he found upset him greatly. One of his new employees had authorized payment on three separate claims. That was the most payouts from one person since he'd fired that bleeding heart Bob Parr. Gilbert paused. He hadn't thought of Bob Parr in years. With a self satisfied smile, he let himself think back to the day he had fired the big man. He relished the feeling of power as the hulking man who could, in all probability tear him in half physically, was forced to submit to his authority. The delicious feeling of power as he forced the physically larger man to submit and practically beg for his job and then the delicious irony when Gilbert had let him know that all his posturing had been for nothing. He was still being fired. Gilbert could still remember the shocked expression, the hang-dog body posture and the dejection that permeated the big man's entire body as he slunk out the door… half remembered impacts penetrated his thoughts. The ghosts of blows caused by flying through several walls played in a corner of his mind. Bob's hand around his throat, Bob's face red with anger, Bob's eyes burning with accusations, Bob receding rapidly, framed by a crude outline of a man… Something wasn't right.

* * *

Consciousness came to Violet slowly, drifting in through the open sliding door with the early morning sounds of the Pacific Ocean. Chi's hand rested on her hip, a source of warmth and comfort. She let her mind drift back to the night before and she felt a tightening in her crotch and nipples. Chi had explored her body with a tenderness and reverence that had stunned her, stroking pleasure from nearly every inch of skin on her body. She had felt like a queen, no… a goddess… with Chi as her worshiper. She reveled in the feeling for a moment but a small voice was nagging in the back of her mind. _And what did you give her?_ It asked. Guilt sprang up and Chi's hand, so comforting the moment before suddenly seemed to be demanding a response. Violet slid out of bed as stealthily as she could and slunk to the bathroom. By the time she was done with her shower, Chi had breakfast laid out and demanded nothing more than a quick peck on the cheek as she headed past to take her own shower. Violet turned to say something, but the water was already running.

Lucy's surprise turned out to be VIP passes to one of Southern California's biggest theme parks. Lucy's company, Black Diamond Productions, was sponsoring a show there and one of her perks was all access passes. Violet and Chi got to see all the regular shows but the real treat was getting to go behind the scenes and meet the stars in person. When one of the staff offered to let them actually swim with the world's largest performer, Violet jumped at the chance. Chi, however, was reluctant to get into a tank with a Killer Whale no matter how friendly and under control its handlers said it was. Instead, she sat at the side of the pool and watched as Violet began tentatively but gained confidence with amazing quickness. In less than half an hour, the dark haired girl was moving through the water as smoothly and with as much confidence as any of the trainers. Watching Violet cavorting in the water with the black and white behemoth, Chi changed her mind about going in. She was just about to ask one of the staff for a bathing suit when something about the way Violet was moving caught her eye. Her path through the water was uncannily smooth. She moved like a dolphin and Chi found herself mesmerized by the lithe movements. Her thoughts were interrupted by one of the trainers.

"Look at that girl swim." It was a whispered aside, but the acoustics of the area carried the sounds around. Chi looked around and found that the few staff members who had not joined Violet and the Orca in the pool were watching her move through the water with expressions of awe and envy. She realized that her own face must have held that same expression only a moment before. She looked back into the pool and watched carefully. If she squinted just right, she thought she could see the tell-tale shimmer of a force field mixing with the sun's rays glinting off of the water's surface. She glanced around sharply, but no one else seemed to notice what was going on. There was another sparkle at the edge of her vision and she once more felt a keen desire to dive into the pool and join in the fun. She resisted the urge but the remaining attendants shed their outer uniforms and dove in. Concerned, Chi looked around the private arena. There wasn't anything she could spot that would have this kind of effect on her. She looked into the pool, trying to pick out Violet.

When she focused on the girl, an astonishing pattern became clear. Violet was the center of what ever was happening in the pool. Somehow, she had established a rapport with the Killer Whale and the entire staff and now she was conducting a kind of water ballet with herself at the center. Once again she felt awe at the subtle influence that Violet exerted on her surroundings. An unflattering question toyed around briefly in the back of her mind; was Violet subjecting her to the same kind of subconscious manipulation? Before she could give this the consideration it deserved, waves of nausea radiated through her. Memories flooded out from some locked portal in her mind and threatened to overwhelm her. She held onto the plastic bench as though the world might suddenly decide to flip over onto its head and, indeed, she felt as though it had. The feeling of nausea retreated as rapidly as it had come, receding like the tide, but it left a wealth of hidden memories in its wake. She spent a few moments in silent astonishment, rapidly thumbing through her newly rediscovered past. Agent Dicker's permissive attitude toward her and her burgeoning relationship with Violet made a lot more sense as did The Agency's relationship with Chi Mera industries.

She shook herself out of her musings, her past dealings with The Agency and what influence they might have on future dealings would have to wait. There was still a minor mystery surrounding Violet and how she was affecting the immediate environment. Chi took a series of deep breaths and turned her attention inward. The sounds and sights drifted away easily, the smells took a bit longer. For a moment she idly wondered why the sense of smell seemed to be so much more difficult to ignore than her other senses when she was trying to enter a trance, but she didn't dwell on it and the thought floated away along with the other sensations she was distancing herself from. The light-headed feeling of being just this side of unconscious was as easy to attain as ever and her senses came back to her slowly but with greater intensity. The salty tang of sea water clung to the top of her mouth and the back of her throat. Shouts and laughter from audiences assembled elsewhere in the park assaulted her ears from several directions immersing her in the varied crowds. The gentle breeze tore at her clothes while the light mist in the air cut into her skin with a cruel bite. She accepted all the amplified sensations and damped them one by one until they were bearable once more.

Chi tuned her hearing until she could pinpoint Violet as she moved through the water. She swiveled to face the sounds and opened her eyes. Looking at the scene through what Thea called her "inner eye," she could see that Violet was bathed in a dolphin-shaped blue aura. She had basically formed her force fields into a svelte dolphin shape and was mimicking the movements of the Orca that she shared the tank with. Chi watched, with eyes tuned to a frequency no one else could pick up, as pockets of force materialized at various points in the water, sometimes touching the large mammal gently, sometimes touching one of the staff. Each manifestation encouraged a turn or a leap without being demanding. Each manifestation was unequivocally linked to the lithe form moving gracefully through the clear water. Violet communed with the Killer Whale and its trainers, encouraging, suggesting, persuading, in complete control of herself, her powers and the game being played in the vast saltwater pool. Chi was drawn back in time to the moment she first realized that this tiny, unassuming girl was wielding the full might of the crime-fighting family known to the outside world as "The Incredibles." She remembered the sensuous, sexual thrill that had spread through her body when she understood that Violet held the reigns that guided the raw power they represented.

Chi let her mind drift backward in time. The Agency had used her to keep tabs on Syndrome. She remembered volunteering for the mission quite clearly. And looking back with through the filter of her experiences since that time, she could see how she had been manipulated. No wonder she had empathized so completely with Violet. Of course, once Syndrome had been neutralized, they could have restored her mind and memories but, for whatever reason, they had chosen not to. Something had changed though, and suddenly she could remember. She didn't waste any time wondering how that miracle had come to pass, she just concentrated on her next step. Even if The Agency knew her memories were restored, they probably wouldn't come after her. And even if they did, she wasn't a confused little girl, frightened of the visions that haunted her anymore. Now she had status in the community. Now she had money, power, influence… and now, she had Violet. Chi watched Violet now with an insulating layer of reality. She tried to consider the young woman in coldly logical terms but Violet's allure was a strong as ever and the sensual thrill still tugged at her. It was something of a relief to know that her attraction to the young Super was genuine and her newly rediscovered memories did nothing to dampen her feelings. But she understood the realities that she faced; she was still under the thumb of The Agency. However, if she could demonstrate that Violet's power, influence and _control_ was her's to command, they wouldn't dare come after her. Realization hit her like a wall of ice-cold sea water. She could do anything…

_She could..._

The thought was lost as a wall of ice-cold sea water deluged her, shocking her out of her trance. She let out a little scream and stood up abruptly. For several seconds she stood still, completely shocked and disoriented. When she finally focused her eyes, they fell on Violet. The dark haired girl was in the water at the side of the pool resting her chin on her crossed arms. Her blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

"I told you I'd get you back for the video conference thing." she laughed.

Chi looked around. The trainers and staff were climbing out of the pool. They were all laughing and touching each other with the wistful regret that comes from having been a part of something magical, something they knew probably would never happen again. She studied them as intently as she could without being obvious about it. None of them seemed to realize they'd all been under Violet's control through the whole thing. Chi turned her attention to the young woman climbing from the pool. Violet returned her intense stare with a wide smile. Looking into those sparkling blue eyes, Mirage finally understood what she wanted from life. The only problem was finding a way to have Violet give it to her.

The rest of the day passed in that odd place in time where each moment can be savored for hours but the hours seem to pass in moments. On their way out of the park that evening, Chi paused at a booth selling souvenirs.

"Let's get a T-shirt with Shamu on it," she suggested. "This one has a swimmer in the tank. We could always tell people it was you. They'd never know the difference."

"Oh, I don't need any mementos." Violet said airily. "I don't think anything could make me forget this day, or anything else that happened on this trip!" She suddenly blushed a deep red and turned away.

Chi reached out and gently laid her hand on the younger woman's arm. "No regrets, surely," she said softly.

"No…" came the hesitant reply. "I just feel bad… 'cause I didn't…"

Chi grasped the younger woman's upper arms and turned her until they were eye to eye. "No regrets." She said firmly. "I already told you-"

She was interrupted by a scream from nearby. "MY BABY! SOMEONE STOP HIM! HE'S GOT MY BABY!"

Violet tensed and started to pull away. Chi held her more tightly, "You're on vacation, Vi. Let the police handle…" She trailed off when she saw the look in Violet's eyes. She rolled her eyes and tried to appeal to the girl's logic, "What if someone puts two and two together and figures out who you are?"

Violet considered that for all of half a second. "I guess I'd better not be seen." A ripple of amusement colored Violet's conspiratorial whisper.

Chi gave in and looked around for a suitable place to change. "Behind there!" She hissed, pointing to a tiny alcove made by the imperfect junction of two booths. "I'll cover for you." Violet was already moving.

Chi tried to follow the action. She could see an open area where the abductor was being held at bay by some of the people from the crowd. But the whole thing was moving toward the gates and, from the sounds that reached her, she guessed he was using threats to the child to keep people away from him. She felt someone brush past her and was momentarily startled to find no one there. A whiff of familiar perfume confirmed it was Violet and Chi followed her closely, using her scent and the abrupt parting of the crowd as her guides. The disturbance broke through to the clear area. Chi pulled up at the edge of the crowd, trying not to be conspicuous.

The man had a knife in one hand and was holding a young boy possibly three or four years old across his hip with the other arm. He was waving the knife around randomly, screaming and cursing. "Keep back! Everyone just back the hell up or I'm gonna cut this little bastard up into pieces!" The crowd shifted uncomfortably around her. Several uniformed security guards were trying to force their way through the dense crowd with little luck. A hysterical woman was being restrained by someone almost directly across from her. She could feel someone tensing next to her. She glanced to her right at the young athletic man and realized he was about to do something rash. Afraid his actions might endanger the child even further, she took a deep breath and a quick step forward into the clearing the crowd left around the madman.

She waited a moment for him to focus on her and said "Please don't hurt the child."

He closed up to her in two short steps and waved the knife in her face. She could feel the crowd shrink back from behind her. "You don't want the kid hurt, you do what I tell you!"

Her heart pounding, Chi raised her hands slowly. "Tell me what to do and I'll do it. Just don't hurt the child." Outwardly calm, she fought a surge of panic. _Where are you, Vi? _She practically screamed in her mind.

"Get all those people out of the way! Clear me a path to the exit…"

Suddenly the crowd between the abductor and the gates began to part. He glanced back and forth suspiciously between her and the widening path to freedom a few times before hitching the child up and making a run for it. He got about five steps and was really hitting his stride when his entire body was lifted up into the air. His shoulder dropped and his feet flew up over his head. It looked for all the world like someone had caught him in a judo hold and used the momentum of his running to flip him. But there was no one there. His body described an almost perfect arc and at the top of it, his feet were pointing straight up and his grip on the child loosened. As he began his descent, the child continued upward for an impossibly long moment before reaching apogee and beginning a sickening plunge toward the hard ground. The man's impact with the ground resulted in a crunching thud that would have been satisfying if it didn't foreshadow a similar event in the child's immediate future. At the last possible moment, there was a shimmer in the air and the child's plunge miraculously slowed. The toddler touched down on the ground as gently as if he'd sat down on his own.

The security guards took advantage of the situation and closed in on the stricken man. Chi got her breath back and made her way over to the nook where Violet had changed. She waited for several minutes and was starting to get worried when she heard Violet's voice.

"_Psst… Chi…_"

"Vi…? Where are you?" She tried to talk without moving her lips.

"I'm right behind you."

Chi started to turn around and caught herself before she got more than a quarter of the way. "Oh, you're still invis—"

"Yeah. I—"

"Why?"

"I'm not wearing my special suit."

"You have a special suit?"

"Of course, you know my powers don't affect my clothes."

Actually, Chi hadn't known that, but she rallied bravely. "You have a special suit that goes invisible when you do?"

"Right."

"You aren't wearing it."

"Right."

But you're completely invisible."

"Right."

"I'm a little confused."

"And I'm a little chilly!"

"Oh… OH!"

"Exactly."

"You need me to distract people so you can get dressed?"

"Yes, except…"

"Except what?"

"Except, my clothes are gone."

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?"

"Gone, as in, not there... where I left them."

"And that was…?"

"On that little table over there."

"The one with the sign on it that reads: 'Witness the future of Sanitation, leave your trash here and watch it disappear.'"

"That's the one."

Chi thought about this for a few minutes. Finally she said, "I'm guessing you're going to want a souvenir T-shirt after all."

* * *

Chi sat at her large mahogany desk seemingly engrossed in the research proposals spread out before her. In reality, she had already decided to discard three of the five and combine several features of the remaining two. It had taken only a few hours of reading and a couple of quick phone calls. Since lunch, she'd actually been thinking about how she could convince Violet that just because she wanted the young woman to pursue her higher education, it didn't mean that she was trying to get rid of her. They'd had the same discussion every morning for the last week and Violet was either being really pig-headed or feeling really insecure. Chi could empathize with both options and had resigned herself to an afternoon of contemplation when the oak doors of her office bust open and her assistant, Daniel, came rushing in. He moved toward her in a sideways scamper, trying to keep both her and the intruders that crowded in directly on his heels in sight. If she hadn't been so upset by the disturbance, she probably would have found it funny.

"_ItriedtostopthemMsMerabuttheywouldn'twaittheyjustpushedpastmeandheadedforyourofficeliketheyownedtheplaceandIcouldn'tstopthem_-" His words came out in a rush and it took her a moment to catch up to him.

She held up a slender hand and he stopped talking immediately. "I'm sure you did your best, Daniel." She eyed the intruders with open hostility, not even bothering to pretend civility. There were six of them, all with the air of superiority that always seems to radiate from young law enforcement officers. Since they were wearing suits instead of uniforms, she guessed they were from The Agency. She let her glare rest on the apparent leader of the group and went on, "Some people have never learned their manners." The agent matched her glare evenly. She continued, "Those of us who know better will always suffer for their parents' short comings." She felt a moment of triumph as his pupils dilated and his hands curled up into fists. "It's alright, Daniel. These… _gentlemen_…" Chi lingered over the word, making it clear that she thought the intruders were as far from gentlemanly as they could possibly be. "…are from the government. They're here to help me." The leader looked ready to take a swing at her. She wondered how far she could push him before he completely lost it. She glanced down at the way his suit bulged around his chest and arms and decided that if she was going to wind him up, it would be prudent for her to keep the vast expanse of the desk between them.

The large agent flexed his hands once more and looked directly into her eyes. "If you don't want your flunky to know more about you than he should, I suggest you send him out of the room,_ Ms. Mera_." The look he gave her was deliberately challenging. She wondered if they were here because they knew she'd recovered her memories. She suppressed a shiver and casually leaned over her desk. The action was deliberate misdirection, designed to keep the intruders from noticing as she placed her weight on a particular section of the floor. A side door opened about a second later and she breathed a sigh of relief. Daniel had followed standard protocols, and a dozen of her armed security men filed silently into her office. They took up positions around the room and stood at the ready, hands on holstered weapons. Her chief of security walked in just as they finished surrounding the intruders. "Is there a problem, Ms. Mera?" he asked calmly, almost exactly like there weren't eighteen fully-armed, trigger-happy people in the room looking for an excuse to shoot each other.

"Oh, I don't think so, Gil." She let a little of the smugness she felt color her voice. "Agent…?" she trailed off, raising a questioning eyebrow at the large man scowling and flexing his hands in the center of her office.

"Bartel." he muttered darkly.

"I'm sorry," her voice was saccharine sweet. "I didn't catch that." The look he gave her was so full of anger, the force of it nearly rocked her back physically. She gave no outward sign of discomfort. Instead, she plastered a plastic smile on her features and sing-songed, "You'll have to excuse me; my hearing is a little off. I find that rudeness is almost impossible to comprehend. Agent…?"

"Bartel." He annunciated clearly.

She raised an eyebrow again.

"Ma'am." He grunted through gritted teeth.

"That's much better, Mr. Bartel." She walked daintily around her desk and approached the large agent. With a dozen of her own security forces in the room and another dozen waiting just outside the door, she felt more comfortable getting within arm's reach of him. She leaned in conspiratorially, "Next time you want to barge into someone's office and threaten them, I suggest you do your homework." She glanced around, as though looking for eavesdroppers. "I didn't get where I am today by letting little wanna-be martinets swagger into my house and bully me. I also didn't get where I am by letting them swagger back out, if you catch my drift." From the corner of her eye, she caught Gil's signal and glanced toward the double doors leading into her office just as Rick Dicker walked up to them.

He glanced around the room and walked calmly up to her, interposing himself between her and the impotently raging agent. "Ms. Mera, if you are done cowing the help, we need to speak." As he talked he gestured to the agents and all of them except Bartel made a quick, silent exit. Rick turned to face him, "Joe, the Director overstepped his authority when he sent you here. This is my jurisdiction and my case. I intend to handle everything from here on in personally. And, trust me, you do not want to be between the Director and me when this all blows up." Bartel considered that for a few minutes before nodding curtly. With one last glare at Chi, he quit the room with as much dignity as he could muster. At a signal from Chi, Gil gathered up the security detail and they faded out discretely.

Chi offered Rick a drink. When he declined, she poured one for herself. Her hands didn't shake, much. "What's going on, Rick?" her voice was nearly as stable as her hands.

"Too much to explain here; I'll need you to come down to headquarters." His expression was unreadable.

Chi's breath caught in her chest and she quickly reviewed her options. Could she convince him that they should take separate cars or was he going to take her into custody right here and now? Where was Violet? She had to stall until she could find Violet and they could get away together. "I'm a little busy right now. I could stop by tomorrow or even later tonight, if it's really urgent." Her voice sounded strident to her ears.

Rick waved indifferently, "Tomorrow's fine, but there's something you need to see right now."

"Oh?" She sagged in relief.

He nodded absently, "On youtube."

"There's something I need to see on youtube?"

"Yes. Search for 'Angel saves baby at Sea World.'"

Chi spit out the sip of whiskey and coke she'd just taken.

"No."

"I'm afraid so."

* * *

_**Next Time**__: Odd jobs  
_

_**Author's Note: **__This chapter has been a long time coming and I apologize for that. Thanks to King in Yellow and eggnog for helping get me back on track when I was surely heading for a shark tank on water-skis. Also thanks to everyone who has waited patiently and those who have waited impatiently as well._


	6. I know what I did last summer

_**Author:**__ A Markov  
**Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind**  
Chapter: **__6/17**  
Summary:**______Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier._.**  
Rating:**_ PG-13**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

Chapter 6- I Know What I Did Last Summer

Violet was puzzled by Chi's request but she agreed to accompany the woman down to The Agency's main building. Chi seemed really distracted and stressed out. The couple of times that Violet tried to get more information about what was going on, she was rebuffed. Not in a mean way, just in an "absent-minded, I'm not really paying attention to anything outside of my head" kind of way. Violet decided not to push it. Chi's company had dealings with The Agency on several different projects. Maybe it was contract negotiation time. Besides, she didn't really want to pack for college anyway. This would give her an excuse to put it off and spend some time with the blonde. The ride downtown didn't improve Chi's mood and Violet was beginning to regret her decision. She touched Chi's arm to get her attention and the blonde grabbed her hand and held it tightly. She was trembling.

"Chi…?"

The blonde just shook her head and grasped Violet's hand even tighter. OK, probably not contract time. Had Dicker started meddling again? "Chi, if Uncle… if Dicker is giving you a hard time, you let me know and I'll…" Chi reached over and touched her finger to Violet's lips.

"I don't know all the details of what's going on, Vi."

"Are you being threatened? Did you do something illegal while we were in California?"

"I… I don't know."

"Tell me the parts you know so I can help!"

Chi looked despondent. "I don't know if you can help."

"We're supposed to be a team, Chi." Violet was getting a little angry now.

Chi wouldn't meet her eyes. She just sat there chewing on her lower lip. The car pulled up in front of the building and Violet was focused on Chi's face, waiting for an answer. Chi was still staring straight ahead, but when the car stopped she asked, "Do you still have unlimited access to the records room?"

The question took Violet by surprise and she just managed to nod.

"Look up 'Project Cadmus.'"

"What?"

"Promise me, Vi." Chi pleaded. "It's very important."

"I'm not going to spy on…"

"It's not spying. It's research."

"What am I going to find?"

"Me."

Further conversation was cut off. They had arrived at the building and, to Violet's surprise, Dicker met them at the curb. If Dicker was surprised to see Violet there, he gave no outward sign. He just offered each of them his hand in turn and helped them from the car. He insisted on seeing Chi alone, though. As Chi followed him toward the elevator, very reluctantly in Violet's opinion, Violet headed for the records vault.

* * *

Dicker refused to talk in the elevator and merely grunted when she demanded answers. When they reached their destination, Chi was pleasantly surprised to find herself in a server room rather than an interrogation chamber. The presence of a half dozen obviously non-combatant agents was also reassuring. Dicker took her by the elbow and guided her to an access terminal. He gestured for her to sit down while he pulled several loose leaf binders from a nearby shelf. Emboldened by the evidence that she wasn't being unceremoniously carted off to Guantanamo Bay, Chi decided to go on the offensive.

"If you need someone to debug your code, you could have just contacted my office. Technical support is one of the things Uncle Sam pays through the nose for." Rick grunted noncommittally and plopped one of the binders down on the table in front of her. The Chi Mera Inc. logo stared back at her but she didn't recognize the product name. "Is this even one of mine? Third party software is going to cost you a lot more…"

Rick held up a hand. "I think you know me well enough to know that I wouldn't ask you to come down here, if it wasn't absolutely necessary."

"So what crisis requires my personal touch? I don't even recognize this product line…"

"It predates your company. After Mr. Pine left us, we thought it best to reorganize our filing system. We were still casting around for a way to re-brand some of our more controversial projects when you conveniently went into business for yourself. We co-opted your corporate name to make certain programs more palatable to the auditors." He glanced sidelong at her, "It legitimized things on several levels and even if it was discovered, you weren't in much of a position to complain about it."

She let the perceived threat go. "So this is something Buddy whipped up before he decided that you guys were moving too slowly and struck out on his own." Dicker's expression never wavered but the length of the pause before he answered made her wonder if she had revealed too much.

"Yes." Dicker finally said, solemnly. "In fact, this was the last project he completed before leaving to pursue his own agenda."

Chi studied his face for several minutes. He didn't even twitch an eyebrow. Finally, she asked, "What do you want from me?"

"Last week we noticed that one of our subjects wasn't responding to the MARS within predicted parameters. In fact, the data suggested that instead of gradually easing into a new memory pattern, the subject's brain was remapping along previously unknown pathways and a completely new personality, unrelated to both the primary persona and the imposed persona, was emerging." He handed her a manila folder with several pages of charts. "When we shut down the MARS at the subject's residence, the entire system crashed and, as near as we can tell, sent out a counter pulse that momentarily reverted all subjects to their primary personas. You…" Dicker paused again, studying her face impassively. Chi kept her expression completely neutral. "…are more familiar with his work than anyone else. I need you to figure out what happened and why."

"I might be more familiar with Buddy's style than anyone else, but that doesn't mean I can figure out what's going on with a program that I had nothing to do…" Her voice trailed off as Dicker raised his eyebrows.

"No more games." His voice was even but there was a hint of steel underneath it. "I know you were in the vicinity of a MARS transmitter in San Diego. I also know that the pulse that went out affected you. As soon as I saw the video on youtube, I called up all of our monitoring at that site and I watched you react to the system glitch as you sat on a bench next to the tank where Ms. Parr was frolicking with the whale." Dicker leaned in and grasped Chi lightly by the shoulders. "You helped Mr. Pine write this thing. Now you're going to help me fix it."

"No more games, Mr. Dicker?" Chi felt her face burning with anger. "Tell me something, before I walk out of here and never look back. Are you the one who decided that I was more useful without my past? Are you the one who decided that I could be controlled more easily if I didn't remember my connections to this place? Are you the one who decided that I was dangerous now that I was whole again? Is that why your goons stormed into my office yesterday?"

"Mirage, I assure you that until a week ago, I thought you accompanied Mr. Pine to Nomanisan because you shared his vision of the future." An agent interrupted them and, with a significant glance at the blonde, handed Dicker a note. His eyes flicked from the note to her face several times and he whispered something in the agent's ear before turning back to her. "It seems that Ms. Parr is making people nervous with the current direction of her research. You wouldn't happen to know who pointed her toward Project Cadmus, would you?"

"I thought you said we were done playing games, Mr. Dicker."

"I advised you to stop playing games, Mirage. Advice you seem to be ignoring."

"You have me at a disadvantage. I'm just trying to level the playing field."

"This is a very dangerous game."

"All the more reason for me to secure every advantage I can, Mr. Dicker."

"I'm on your side."

"That's very comforting to hear, especially considering the fact that half a dozen of your armed thugs showed up in my office yesterday and threatened me."

"That wasn't my doing, and I headed it off as soon as I-"

"Yes, very convenient the way you showed up in the nick of time."

"I did my best to show up before the critical moment, Mirage."

"I don't appreciate being strong-armed, Mr. Dicker. I also don't appreciate being manipulated."

He regarded her dispassionately for a few moments. "You put me in a very tough position, Mirage. I'm damned if I do-"

"You put yourself in that position!" she almost yelled it. "And stop calling me 'Mirage.' That's not my name."

"Neither is 'Mera.'"

"'Chi Mera' is the name that Violet knows me by. I can't think of a better endorsement for it."

Dicker took a step back and studied her intently for several seconds. Finally, his face dropped into the familiar bland expression and he continued, "Ms. Mera, there is an internal matter here at The Agency that you seem likely to be caught in the middle of. Please help me fix this problem and I'll do my best to make sure that you and Ms. Parr are sheltered from the fallout."

"And if I don't help?"

He sighed, "I'll still do my best to keep the two of you out of the line of fire. This isn't a shakedown. It's a request for a favor."

It was Chi's turn to study him intently. After a few moments she turned away and stared at the blank screen in front of her. "Did you watch what was happening in the tank on that surveillance video? Or did you just watch what was happening to me?" she asked, quietly.

"I watched everything, Ms. Mera."

"She's not aware that she's doing it, you know. She just decides to do something and thinks about how great it would be if everyone else was doing it too and then..." Chi shrugged. "...then it all works out for her." She focused on him once more, "Keep that in mind when your 'internal matter' starts getting out of hand."

"I'm well aware of how Ms. Parr affects those around her. How do you feel about it?"

"I really don't have much choice, do I? She could take over the whole planet and we'd all think it was a great idea." Chi sighed. "I'll do what I can, but not here. I don't want to be stuck here. Give me the spreadsheets. I'll take 'em home and see what I can figure out."

"And Violet's research…?

"It's my past, Mr. Dicker. I'll share it with whomever I choose."

"It's our past too, young lady, and I'll thank you to be discrete."

Chi paused in her stacking. "You don't understand what this means to me."

Dicker covered her hand with his own. It was a gentle gesture, almost fatherly, and it tore open a hole in her heart.

* * *

It happens a couple of times a year, some woman in New Mexico finds a persimmon shaped like The Virgin Mary and the faithful flock to her doorstep eager to share in the magic they believe surrounds such events. The miracle at Sea World was no different and once the video hit youtube, there was no stopping them. They came from all over, sometimes singly, sometimes in small family groups. They gladly paid the park's entry fee but never went on any of the rides or attended any of the shows. Instead, they milled about slowly in the plaza where the miraculous event had occurred, hoping, praying for another in much the same way the math-challenged flock to a store where a winning lottery ticket was sold. Larger groups followed and with in a week dozens of patrons were spending the entire day milling about the plaza, in silent and not-so-silent supplication to whatever deity they believed was responsible for the wonder. By the end of the second week, the crowd numbered in the hundreds and it was beginning to interfere with the foot traffic into and out of the park. Reg Glindon, Chief of Security, had seen the blurry video on youtube that some people claimed depicted a miracle. He was ready to concede that if you squinted and tilted your head at the right angle, it was entirely possible that the shimmering image that appeared in the video just before the little boy hit the ground was vaguely humanoid. It was also entirely possible that the entire thing was made up and the shimmer was the result of an attention-seeking amateur animator or just a glitch in the recording software. He didn't care if it was an angel or a demon a practical joke or a trick of the light. What mattered to Reg was that he had a couple hundred people blocking his exits and slowing up the traffic through his park. He appealed to the board of directors to come up with a plan to keep the miracle seekers out of his hair and the fire lanes.

Billing it as a new attraction complete with a local marketing push and souvenir t-shirts was considered and reluctantly rejected. Many of the board members had experience dealing with the local clergy and knew that the churches would flood the park entrance with evangelists and donations collectors and that any attempt to restrict them or evict them would result in a time-consuming and very costly lawsuit over religious discrimination. The board was still arguing about the whole thing a month later and the crowds weren't getting any smaller. But, when the National Supers Agency showed up unannounced and removed a large chunk of the plaza leaving only confusion and a two hundred square foot hole in the ground, the park administration wasted no more time. They erected a small pavilion and hired a local gospel band to dress up in robes with wings stapled on the back and perform a short set every three hours. They needn't have bothered. Two weeks later, a woman in New Mexico found a persimmon in the shape of The Virgin Mary at a local farmer's market that also sold lottery tickets and the crowds moved on.

* * *

_**Next Time:**__ She's Leaving Home_


	7. Curiouser and Curiouser

_**Author:**__ A Markov  
__**Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
__**Chapter: **__7__/17__**  
Summary:**______Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier.__**  
Rating:**__ PG-13__**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.__**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

**Chapter 7- ****Curiouser and Curiouser**

Violet kept her eyes on Chi the whole way home, looking for some clue as to what had happened. If Violet was any judge, the meeting with Dicker did nothing to ease Chi's stress levels. The blonde woman had been distracted on the way in to the agency, on the way home she was distracted and pissed off. Violet was feeling a little frustration herself. Her research hadn't turned up anything about Project Cadmus other than the fact that it existed. When she tried to broach the subject to Chi, the blonde shook her head sharply and murmured, "This is an Agency car. We'll talk later."

Violet considered this for a few minutes. Was Chi on the outs with the Agency? Was it about this 'Project Cadmus?' What was Project Cadmus about anyway? Why couldn't she find out more about it when she supposedly had unlimited access to the Agency's archives and data base? Did it have something to do with why Chi had come to the Agency today? Why had Chi been asked to come to the Agency today? Chi's intensity on the ride over had piqued her curiosity and the frustration of learning nothing was only intensifying her hunger to know. One look at Chi's expression and she'd decided to keep the questions at bay, for now. Still, even though she wouldn't give them voice, they ran through her mind on an endless loop.

Chi didn't seem to notice Violet's agitation. The blonde woman stared intently at the back of the seat in front of her, chewing on her bottom lip and occasionally glancing at her briefcase with apprehension. When they got home, Violet offered to carry the case upstairs. Chi shook her head curtly and picked it up, holding it gingerly as if she was afraid it was going to turn into a deadly viper and bite her at any moment. Once they were inside, Violet tried to bring up the subject of Project Cadmus again.

Chi worried her lower lip for a few more minutes before she cut Violet off. "Do you remember what you told me the first time we talked about secrets?"

Violet shook her head.

"You told me that the problem with secrets is that they never affect just one person." Chi gestured with her free hand vaguely. "There are a lot of people who…" Her voice trailed off, she shook her head and let out a rueful chuckle. "I'm not sure we can talk about this, even here, Vi. I guess I'm not sure of very much right now." She reached out and took Violet's hand, rubbing it absent-mindedly. "I've got to look over some stuff for Dicker right now. We'll pick this up when I've had a chance to sort some stuff out in my own mind. I promise."

Violet let out a frustrated sigh and pulled her hand away.

With that, Chi disappeared into her office and Violet was left alone in the hallway. She was confused, to say the least, but she was also a little angry. Answers didn't seem to be forthcoming from Chi so she tried to do a little digging of her own. Her first phone call was to Uncle Rick. He wouldn't take her call.

Lucious wasn't home.

Her mom picked up on the second ring but had never heard of Project Cadmus and was a lot more concerned about making weekend dinner plans than mysterious projects at the Agency. Violet agreed to come over next Sunday and got off the phone as soon as she could.

She was racking her brain trying to think of someone else she could turn to for information on this when her eyes lit on the computer. Would information on a top-secret government agency project be available on the internet? There was only one way to find out.

A quick Google search turned up about sixty-thousand hits for "Cadmus," most of them pertaining to Greek mythology. According to the myth, Cadmus' sister had been kidnapped by Zeus. Cadmus was instructed by his father to find her and not to return without her. Somewhere along the line the Oracle of Delphi told him to stop looking for his sister and follow a cow around until it stopped then build a city. Somehow, this brought the alphabet to the Greeks. Violet spent a lot of time scratching her head and trying to figure out what kind of project would be named after this guy. Which aspect of the disjointed myth would someone choose as the most important? The searching? The bringing of the alphabet? The kidnapped sister? Was it just a name pulled out of a hat? Nothing made any sense. She glanced down at the clock; it had been nearly two hours since she sat down. She started to get up when a page description caught her eye. "Cadmus" was misspelled in the page summary, as was "government" but it wasn't a Greek mythology site so she clicked on the link.

_PROJECT CADMAS IS THE END OF HUMANS RACE! TEH GOVERMENT IS BUILDING A BETTER HUMAN AT PROJECT CADMUS! WERE ALL AFRAID OF THE SUPERS BUT WE SHOUL BE MORE AFRAID OF GOVERMENT! BECUSE THEIR TRYING TO BREED A NEW RACE OF HUMANS! THAT CAN FIGHT THE SUPERS AND BE UNDER THERE CONTROLLS! WHEN THEY GET DONE KILLING ALL THE SUPERS THEY COMMING FOR CONTROLLING THE REST OF US! BEWARE OF THE PERSON NEXT IN LINE! THEY MIGHT BE CADMAS MAN OR WOMEN AND READY TO KILL YOU WHEN THE GOVERMANT SAYS GO! ALREDDY THER IS LESS SUPERS THAN BEFORE! WE NEVER SEEN SUPERS LIKE IN THE OLD DAYS! ONLY INCREDIBEL! ADN FROZONE! THY ARE UNDER GOVERMENT CONTROL! IF THE GOVERMENT SAYS THEY KILL ANYONE! EVEN YOUR BABYS! WHER ARE THE OTHER SUPERS AT! THAY ARENT UNDER CONTROL OF GOVERMENT LIKE INCREDIBELS AND FROZON! THEY ARE KILLED WITH MR INCREDIBEL! OR FEEZED IN ICE! ONLY WE KNW THE TRUE MATTER! A LADY IN CALIFORNYA WANTED TO SAY ABOUT IT BUT THEY SHUT HER UP WITH A BLACK CAR! IT JUST CAME TO HER HOUSE AND NO NONE OF THE NEGBORS KNOW WHERE SHE WENT! IT WILL BE YOU NEXT TIME! TWO MEN IN NEBRASKA PUT UP VIDEOS FOR EVIDENCE ON WEBSITES AND THEY ARE MISSED NOW! THEY ARENT SEEN FOR YEARS AFTER THAT! DON'T BE FOOL BY THEM!_

Violet shook her head and skimmed over the rest of the site. Variations on these basic themes continued on for nearly a full page with no paragraph breaks or spell checking in evidence. There were blurry pictures and links to quotes by people in the "goverment," all of which were broken. Violet spent about half an hour trying to find a link that worked or something else that backed up the website's claims but found nothing. Her growling stomach eventually pulled her away from the computer. Chi was still barricaded in her office so Violet started dinner. She took care to pick out a couple of things she knew Chi really liked. A good meal with some of her favorite foods might not cure the blonde's melancholy, but it couldn't hurt.

* * *

Joe Bartel stood stiffly in the center of the Director's office, waiting. He was there for nearly fifteen minutes before the Director came in. "Have you been standing here the whole time, Joe? Christ on a pogo stick, man. Have a seat." He waved vaguely toward a chair as he navigated his considerable bulk around his desk. When the director looked up, the man hadn't moved.

"Joe?"

"Sir."

"I told you to have a seat."

"Yes, sir."

"And yet, you remain standing."

"Yes, sir."

The director spent a few minutes looking the agent over. Finally he sighed, "You're not comfortable with any of this, are you, Joe?"

"No, sir."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Agent Dicker is one of the best, sir. He's been with the agency since the very beginning and it doesn't seem right to be going up against him, sir."

"You're looking at this all wrong, Joe. You're not going up against Rick, you're pulling his fat out of the fryer. He's too close to the situation and he isn't seeing everything clearly. It's up to us, you and me, to make sure he doesn't get suckered into something that will compromise all of humanity." The director could tell that he still wasn't getting through. "You've seen the files, Joe. You know what he's been letting the supers get away with, even helping them break or bend the law. I know it seems like he's trying to do the right thing but breaking the law to uphold it is still breaking the law. We exist for the sole purpose of keeping the supers in line. Rick is helping them move the line. I'm not saying we need to take him down. He probably doesn't even know that's what he's doing. Your job… _our_ job, is to show him that he's making a mistake. Hell, once he recognizes what's going on, he'll probably step up and take the lead on getting the whole program back on track."

Bartel thought about it for a minute. "I see what you're saying, sir."

"Then you'll be my point man on this, Joe?"

"Yessir."

"This is tough love, Joe. I need to know you'll be a hundred percent. No doubts, no hesitation, no questions."

"You've got it, sir."

"Excellent. First things first, I need you to go to Norway."

* * *

Chi closed the door of her office behind her and took a deep breath. The briefcase hung heavy in her hand as she laid it almost reverently on her desk. Buried somewhere in the information she'd compiled at the Agency was the key to what was going on inside her head right now. She just had to figure out how to find it. Jumbled memories competed with each other in the back of her mind and she couldn't tell which ones were real. She distinctly remembered her father's disapproving frown but it was also the disapproving frown of Father Patrick at Our Lady of Sorrow Orphanage in Mexico City. Different versions of her childhood competed for dominance and she was helpless to distinguish fantasy from reality. There had to be a way to figure it out. Dicker's problem could wait until she figured out where she came from.

Chi began printing out files and sorting them.

Forty minutes later Violet knocked on the office door. "Chi…?" She cracked open the door. Chi was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. Neat stacks of paper covered nearly every inch of the floor in an asymmetrical pattern that reminded Violet of something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Chi looked up. "Oh, is Gil here?"

The question took Violet by surprise. "Noooo…" She said slowly. "Gil's coming to dinner?"

It was Chi's turn to look surprised. "Dinner?"

"Yeah," Violet tilted her head toward the kitchen. "Dinner's ready."

Chi blinked a few times and took a deep breath. "Smells delicious. I'll be there in a few." Violet didn't move. It took Chi a few minutes to notice that the young woman was still standing in the doorway. "I said, I'd be there in a few minutes, Vi."

"Gil's coming to dinner?"

Chi's confusion was evident. "What? Why would Gil be coming to dinner?"

"How should I know? You're the one…" Violet didn't get to finish the thought. She was interrupted by the doorbell.

"That'll be Gil." Chi caught the expression on Violets face and comprehension dawned on her. "He's not here for dinner, Vi." She smiled. "He's here to courier over some documents to The Agency for me."

"Oh." Violet looked contrite. "It's just that…"

Chi handed a manila envelope to Violet. "You give this to Gil, I'll go get washed up and I'll meet you at the table.

Violet did her best to act like nothing was out of the ordinary at dinner but her attempts at small talk fell like bricks into the Grand Canyon. Chi was so wrapped up in whatever was bothering her that she wasn't even getting an echo. After a little while the only sounds in the dinning room were Stanley Jordan's guitar and the small scrapes and clinks of silverware on china. Violet made it nearly twenty minutes before she couldn't stand it anymore and went for the big one.

"I couldn't access any of the Agency's files on Cadmus." The fork traveling to Chi's mouth paused for a moment before continuing on. Violet imagined that Chi relaxed marginally. "It's the first time I've been told I couldn't look something up since Uncle Rick told me I could use the place last summer."

Chi set her fork down daintily and dabbed the side of her mouth with her napkin. "It's probably for the best, Vi." Her long fingers fluttered. "It's… really complicated and it might be better if you… maybe it's not that important for you to…."

"This morning, you didn't think so." Violet insisted. "'Promise me, Vi.' you said. 'It's very important.' Those were your exact words." Violet waited for a response but Chi wouldn't meet her eyes. "What changed between then and now? Why was it important this morning, but now it's not important?" Violet felt the first stirrings of anger.

"It's not that simple, Vi…"

"What's not simple? Top secret agency programs or how the time of day affects their importance?" Chi jumped as Violet slammed her fork down on the table. "Is Dicker leaning on you? Did you do something illegal in California? Is he blackmailing you? Are you supposed to kill me to prove your loyalty or something?" Chi's head snapped up and she finally looked at Violet. Violet jumped up from the table and backed away. "Oh… _my_… _**GOD**_! I was joking! Uncle Rick told you to kill me?"

"_NO_!" Chi shouted. "Nothing like that. It's not like that."

Violet waited expectantly. Chi sat back down and buried her face in her hands.

"What's going on, Chi?" Violet whined. "One minute we're just fine. You're powerful and smart and ready to take on the world and the next minute you're crying and scared and I'm afraid that you'll break if I touch you… Are you bi-polar or something?"

"I… I'm under a lot of stress…"

"No shit! It's really too bad that I've never been under any stress and that I can't imagine what it would be like!"

"You don't have to be sarcastic."

"And you don't have to be a martyr!" Violet wanted to grab the blonde by her jacket and shake some sense into her. She settled for gripping the table tightly and bringing her face close. "Have we met? I'm Violet Parr. I save the world on a regular basis and if something comes up that I can't handle, I just call my dad. You remember my dad? The strongest, most powerful human on the planet?" Violet threw her hands in the air and stalked to the door. "For the love of… You've got more money than Donald Trump and I'm a fucking Super Hero. What on earth could you possibly be scared of?"

Chi's mouth moved soundlessly a few times before she managed to whisper, "I don't know what's real anymore."

* * *

Kari took a few steps back and examined the results in the mirror. She couldn't do anything about the chin or the eyes right now but she had pulled her hair into a single pony tail on the top of her head and while it didn't look right, it at least looked less wrong. Carefully, she eased the door of the dressing room open a fraction of an inch and peered out into the department store. The two men were still there. Dressed entirely too severely for the trendy department store, they looked completely out of place while they pretended to browse. They'd been standing outside her house this morning. She'd tried to lose them by leaving through the back door and cutting through the natural area behind her house but when she emerged into the streets of Stavenger, they were still there. No matter which way she turned, how fast or slow she went, they stayed with her. They weren't even trying to hide; they were just following her around bold as brass. She shut the door as quietly as she could and turned back to the full length mirror. Yes, the hair was better but the silhouette was still completely wrong. Something would have to be done about the breasts.

* * *

_Next Time: in the eye of the hurricane  
_


	8. The Storm

_**Author:**__ A Markov  
__**Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
__**Chapter: **__8__/17__**  
Summary:**______Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier.__**  
Rating:**__ PG-13__**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.__**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

**Chapter 8: The Storm**

Violet sat quietly watching Chi for several moments. "I'm real." She said softly. "What we have here is real."

Chi looked hopeful but her voice was unsteady. "How can I be sure?" she asked. "Everything I thought I knew about myself is crumbling away. My memories are shifting… when I think about my past I don't know if what I remember really happened or if it was made up by—" She stopped talking abruptly.

Violet kept quiet. It was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, but she could sense that Chi was in a very delicate place and the wrong word could push her over the edge. Internally, Violet whispered a little mantra of encouragement, willing Chi to trust her and share whatever it was that had her so mixed up and unsure of herself. She concentrated on being supportive and encouraging without being intrusive about it. After a few tense minutes, Violet reached across the table and held her hand out, palm up. She forced herself to remain still as Chi noticed the gesture and after a short time reached out, tentatively at first and then with growing resolve and placed her trembling hand in Violet's. Violet willed her hand to be solid, strong and supportive, hoping that Chi would feel reassured.

Chi looked up and met Violet's eyes for the first time since they'd left the house in the morning. "I _want_ to tell you everything, Vi. I want you to know everything about me. I want to share it… But it's not just me..." She cupped Violet's hand in both of her own and brought it up to her lips. "And my memories are all jumbled up. When I was assigned to Buddy, they… did things… to my memory… They had to, or I wouldn't have been able to… it's all mixed up and confused… He would have known… It was necessary… But when it was over, they didn't… And now…" Chi glanced around uncertainly, "Now I…" Chi's eyes focused intently, pinning Violet with their intensity. Her voice was suddenly clear and concise. "I need you to promise me that you won't go off half-cocked and do something crazy."

Violet shook her head in confusion.

"If I tell—" Chi bit her bottom lip and shook her head briefly, "_When_ I tell you this, I need to know you're not going to freak out and do something stupid."

The rapid changes in Chi's voice and expressions were worrying Violet. She was starting to have second thoughts about finding out what was bothering the blonde. She clamped down on her uncertainty and forged ahead. Chi was the most important person in her life and she was going to be there for her come hell or high water. She tried to keep her voice light, "Why? Are you going to tell me something that's going to freak me out?"

"Remember how we talked about secrets and how they always affect more than one person?"

Violet nodded.

"Some of these things affect a lot of people. And by 'a lot' I mean _thousands_ of people, Vi. Maybe…" A dreamy look passed briefly over Chi's face to be replaced almost instantly by a concerned frown. "That's only part of the problem. You… you like to do the right thing… and…"

"And…? What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, Vi. There's nothing wrong with wanting to do the right thing. It's one of the things that I really like about you, but…" Chi chewed on her lower lip. "…sometimes, you need… you have to… look at what's best for everyone, not just what's the right thing."

"That doesn't make any sense. How can doing the right thing not be the right thing to do?" Violet asked but there was no response. Chi folded in on herself and began shaking uncontrollably.

* * *

Agent Joe Bartel was uncomfortable. The jump-seat in C-130 that was winging him toward Northern Europe hadn't been designed with comfort in mind. Not unless the designer was thinking about how to avoid it. Years of hard service had compressed what little padding the seat had started with until it was nearly as dense as the steel of the underlying structure. It was narrow, only ten inches wide, and the top of the seat measured only fourteen inches from the deck of the cargo bay in which it was installed. It is possible that a twenty-year-old Airborne Ranger hopped up on steroids and caffeine wouldn't feel the affects of a short flight strapped to it but crossing the entire Atlantic in it was a feat only a masochist would truly savor. The cabin was pressurized but the Air Force wasn't spending any extra money on frivolities like sound deadening or heat. The entire bay where he was seated, including the area directly in front of the torturous steel ledge they called a seat was crammed with goods destined for American bases across Europe and the last time he'd had this much legroom, he'd been in the back seat of his sister's sub-compact.

That wasn't what was bothering him.

From Joe Bartel's first day in ROTC, his ability to follow orders without thinking had marked him as officer material. His years in Annapolis had been remarkably free of excess curiosity. All through his career as a Naval Officer and his subsequent foray into law enforcement, he'd never been burdened with anything as crass as a desire to understand why things were the way they were. He'd always had some form of The Book to guide him and his orders had never fallen anywhere outside of it. He'd never had to deal with anything that didn't feel right because everything that had been asked of him had fit neatly into his ordered world view. The Book was the beginning and the end of his morality and he'd never had any doubts about it.

Until now.

Now, his mind was working feverishly and this was brand new territory for it.

Now, there was uncertainty and it was gnawing at his gut unrelentingly.

Joe didn't like uncertainty. It frightened him. His usual response to fear was to hit something, preferably whatever was making him fearful. It was a simple strategy and it had served him well up until now. The slight itch in his fists that had begun in the Director's office was getting more difficult to ignore every time he read through his briefing material and didn't know what to hit. The worst part of it was that, technically, the Director was following the rules and Special Agent Dicker was not. On the other hand, Dicker's record in the Agency was unmatched and the first nine weeks of the Agency's course on The Effectiveness of Unconventional Techniques was a study of Dicker's career. Most of all, Joe was haunted by the comment Dicker had made to him at ChiMera Industries and the memory of what had happened to the last agent the Director had assigned to Dicker.

For the first time in his career, Joe's gut was talking to him and he didn't like it one bit.

* * *

Kari made her way though the main terminal of Stavanger Airport a little unsteadily. The men who had been following her at the mall were nowhere to be seen, but there were other men dressed in the same kind of clothes and looking just as out of place that kept popping up in her line of sight no matter where she went. At the bank, they were talking to the new accounts representative. At the travel agency, one had been looking through the brochures about Greece. She was almost scared enough to go home, but she couldn't. She had to get to America. She knew, somehow, that she had to get to America, to Metroville, to Mr. Incredible. When she was trying to get to America, the pain in her head slackened just a little bit. Every moment she wasn't traveling toward America, it intensified. The longer she wasn't in America, the worse it got. It was getting to the point where even when she _was_ making her way toward Metroville, it didn't really get any better, it just didn't get any worse.

The thoughts that boiled up out of her subconscious were worse than the pounding in her skull. They were vengeful and full of spite. Images of Mr. Incredible in pain erupted into her mind when she wasn't concentrating on what she was doing. Her mind wasn't her own any more. Hazy memories and odd fantasies rumbled around in her head trying to find something solid to attach to. That dark-haired girl with the shy smile featured in many of them and sometimes she needed to be tortured too too. Kari wasn't sure who the girl was. She wasn't sure of anything except that she needed to get to Mr. Incredible. She needed to find him and hurt him and, somehow, the dark-haired girl _was_ Mr. Incredible. She tried to make sense of it all but every time she concentrated on why she had to do these things, the pounding in her head got worse and her stomach churned and twisted itself into knots.

Two voices vied for her attention as she waited for her KLM flight to Amsterdam to begin boarding. They strove to make themselves heard above the throbbing ache in her head. One was a dull murmur, droning in the background. It was soothing and placid; it urged her to rest, to sleep, to forget about it all and just go back home. The other was more strident, almost a scream. But it was a scream heard from a long way away. It cried for vengeance, and for destruction. She couldn't quite make out the words but the sentiments of both were clear. She couldn't understand how the other people in gate area couldn't hear them. Trembling, she clutched herself tightly and rocked slowly back and forth in her chair.

The plane would start boarding soon. She would be on her way to America soon and maybe the voices would leave her alone for a little while and let her rest.

* * *

Mirage's world twisted and shifted around her, a hurricane of contradicting thoughts and memories that threatened to sweep her off her feet and drown her in a sea of insanity. She was a sand castle at the mercy of the incoming tide. Each new wave of recollection eroded a little bit more of her self away. Soon there would be nothing left but a shapeless mass of damp sand at the mercy of the tide. She had to tell Violet everything. The girl was the only one who could help her sort it all out, the only one who cared. But what if she didn't like what she heard? What if hearing about the past repulsed the younger woman? What if Violet decided she was too tainted to be associated with? How could she expose herself to that possibility of rejection? Violet was her rock right now. If Violet left her, there wouldn't be any thing for her to hold onto. Without Violet, she had nothing! The Agency would control everything and she'd have no one to protect her.

Mirage trembled from the effort of holding herself together. Sweat beaded up at her temples and tears leaked from her eyes. She'd worked so hard over the last few years to break free and be her own woman. Now, it was all falling apart. Everything she'd thought was her own accomplishment had been a gift from the Agency. All her achievements were sullied by the hand of the controlling puppet masters. Nothing had changed. The realization that all of her independence had been a sham was worse than the uncertainty about her past. Internally she raged against the world and the men who controlled it, controlled her. She gathered up all of her frustration, uncertainty and anger and tried to use it to isolate herself from the mental turmoil but the relentless ocean of uncertainty continued to wash parts of her away. She rejected the negative thoughts and concentrated on her desire to be her own woman. No matter what happened to her mind, she was strong enough to survive it. Reality wasn't important, only independence and self determination mattered. She wasn't going to be dependent on anything or anybody.

_The young man shook his head. She couldn't hear what he was saying to is wife but she knew they weren't going to adopt her. She was too weird. The odd things that happened around her were going to keep her from having a family forever. The woman looked back as she left with her husband. She looked back, but she still left. _

Twenty years later, nothing had changed. She was still afraid of rejection, still afraid of being alone. She'd given up control of her entire life to avoid that feeling. Since the very first time someone had wanted her, she'd never had control of her life. Since the first time she'd met the fat man, her life had been controlled by someone else; doctors, psyches, agents, agencies…

_Wait_… a little voice in the back of her mind whispered excitedly. _What was that?_

The fat man… had chosen her…

_The little girl in the mirror was very solemn. Her white-blonde hair, always noticeable against the dark tones of her skin, looked particularly stark against the black dress she'd been cajoled into by Thea. Now Thea was behind her with a spray bottle and a brush trying to detangle the blonde mass. She looked old. She was trying to hide it, but it was obvious that something was wrong. The brush twitched in her hand and a small frown creased her lips as she flicked some imaginary piece of dirt from the shoulder of the little girl in front of her. _

_There was a knock on the door and Thea went to answer it. The girl couldn't understand the whispered statement from the hallway but its urgency was obvious as was the distressed sharp intake of breath from Thea. The door shut firmly and the old woman appeared once more in the mirror behind her. "…nothing to be done now. Not supposed to be here yet… never get the hair combed in time… put it up… the only way…" as she continued muttering, Thea pulled a black head-band from her pocket and then pulled the blonde hair into a tight ponytail. There was a sharp pain in her scalp as Thea's ring caught one of her hairs and pulled it out but she didn't let it show. Then Thea's hands were on her shoulders and she found herself being spun around. She was surprised to find herself face to face with the older woman and tried to take a step back. Thea's hands tightened on her shoulders and she wasn't trying to hide her worry any more. _

"_I don't know, Miha." She sighed. "Maybe, I should never have said anything… I wish… …guess it's too late now." Thea's hands enveloped her face and her warm lips pressed into her forehead. "Behave yourself, Miha. This man is very important and…" Abruptly she stood up and pulled the little girl out of the room. Their footsteps on the hardwood floor echoed off the plaster walls as the hurried down the long hallway. To her surprise, Thea pulled her into the little chapel._

_The fat man stood before the Holy Mother's Shrine. He wasn't praying. When he heard them come in, he turned slowly and looked at her. Nobody had ever looked at her like that before. She had seen the stares of the other children, fearful and cruel at the same time. She had seen the looks of the young parents coming to adopt a child, nervous and confused. She had even seen a look of predatory hunger that had sent shivers down her spine. Fortunately, Thea had seen it too and that man had been shown out of the house and never allowed back. But the fat man looked at her in a way she didn't understand. It was cold and calculating. Like she was just a thing and he didn't know if she was going to be worth what she cost. Thea was babbling but the words didn't make any sense to her. The fat man didn't seem to be listening either. He was just looking. Finally he held up his hand. Thea's voice trailed off uncertainly._

"_She sees auras?" The words snapped out of his mouth. His lips were too thin for his face._

_Thea nodded and started talking about the odd things that had happened in the last year. She was cut off again by the fat man's hand._

"_Do you want to leave here and live somewhere where people understand about what you see?"_

_She was startled. It took a minute for her to realize he was speaking to her. She glanced up at Thea for guidance._

"_Don't look at her." The voice snapped again. " This is your decision."_

_The idea of making a decision for herself was fascination, but she still hesitated._

"_It's in America."_

_America… The land of hamburgers and French fries and cowboys and chocolate candy and movie stars… America… She nodded._

Mirage blinked. Violet was kneeling next to her looking worried and shining like a lighthouse beacon through the fog of her uncertainty. On some level, she was aware of a hypnotic strobe, flashing on the edge of her vision, just under the conscious level. A small voice in the back of her mind screamed "_She's doing it to you! She's manipulating you_!" Another part of her rose up, "_But she's not doing it on purpose, she doesn't know_…" "_It doesn't make it any better. She's manipulating you just like she manipulates everyone. You don't really want to tell her, she's making you think that you want to_." With a conscious effort, Mirage blocked out the hypnotic patterns. She studied the young woman sitting across from her with a critical eye.

There was no malice in Violet, nothing sneaky or underhanded. Her open sincerity was nearly as hypnotic as her unconscious manipulation of the light around her. Mirage surrendered.

Chi's voice shook as she began speaking. "When I was seven years old the fat man came for me…"

Chi spoke for a long time. After a while she became aware that Violet was holding her close and rocking her. She closed her eyes and just kept talking. It felt like the right thing to do.

* * *

_**Next Time:** The Prodigal Child_


	9. Thunder in the Distance

_**Author:** A Markov  
**Title: **Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
**Chapter: **9/17**  
Summary:** S____Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier._**  
Rating:** PG-13**  
Warning:** This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.**  
Disclaimer:** The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything.

* * *

**Chapter 9: Thunder in the Distance**

Joe Bartel fumed in the passenger seat of the sedan. He was uncomfortable with the situation of having someone else drive him around but his knowledge of Stavenger was pretty much non-existent. His mood wasn't made any better by the fact that the driver was using a GPS to navigate. The only thing that kept him from taking over the driving by force was that the GPS, like all the street signs, was in Norwegian. The driver, seemingly unaware of Joe's frustration, followed the GPS' directions with a kind of slow deliberation that did nothing for the frustrated agent's nerves. Trying to find a distraction, Joe turned his mind to the McKeen family. As near as he could tell, the girl was just another innocent victim of circumstance and it wasn't making any of this any easier. Every scrap of information he processed regarding the girl's family indicated that they were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. On the surface, a transfer to Norway wasn't a bad thing. They were better off financially and only a small part of their memories had been taken away from them. Of course, the girl was an exception to that. She'd had a lot of her memories re-written to exclude all of her interactions with The Incredibles.

Dicker's written report of the relocation contained a veiled condemnation of the whole operation. Oh, he toed all the Agency lines and parroted the official stance, but it was there in between the lines for anyone with half a brain to see, that Dicker wasn't happy about it and considered the whole thing a waste of Agency resources. Joe was pretty sure that Dicker thought the whole thing had been a huge screw-up and had jeopardized the overall mission of The Agency. On the other hand, the director was adamant that The Agency had only done what was necessary and that there was no need to dig around in the past, especially if the digging could cast them in a bad light.

The director was also convinced that the current situation required nothing more than a simple adjustment to the MARs at the McKeen residence and a couple of sessions back at the Northern European headquarters for the family. He wanted Joe to take care of it and to bring back evidence that Dicker had screwed up so that the old man could be put out to pasture. Dicker had lots of friends in high places and unless the director had something solid, The Agency's most senior agent would, as the director put it, 'politic his way into staying on the job.' Joe wasn't sure why the director wanted Dicker out of the way so badly, but he was really regretting agreeing to get involved in the process. The whole thing made him miss the Navy. In the Navy, you got an order and you carried it out. You didn't have to worry about the consequences or who it pissed off or who could fire you or who was right. You got an order. You carried it out. Political implications were somebody else's problem.

The driver pulled to a stop next to a police car parked carelessly half on the sidewalk and pointed at the house. Several police officers were talking with a couple he recognized as the girl's parents. The woman was clearly distraught. He had a sneaking suspicion that this meant it wasn't going to be as simple as the director thought. He turned to the agent in the driver's seat and asked him to speak with the police. The Norwegian stared back at him blankly. Joe suppressed his irritation. He couldn't prove it but he was pretty sure the guy could speak English perfectly well and was just pretending that he didn't understand because he was pissed that the central office had insisted on having an American agent oversee the operation. He let out a sigh and asked again in Danish. It wasn't Norwegian, but it was as close as he could get. The guy responded with a rapid-fire sentence that Joe didn't get at all and jumped out of the car. Joe got the attention of the technicians in the back seat and pointed them toward the house. As they disappeared inside to perform an on-site analysis of the MARs, he gave silent thanks for nerds who didn't give a rat's ass about politics and just wanted to do their thing.

From the looks of things, the family, the police and now the Norwegian agent were all very stressed out. Their conversation didn't appear to be productive and Joe couldn't think of anything he could say or do to change that. For the time being, he was better off leaning against the car and wondering why he had never taken up smoking or Norwegian.

* * *

Chi couldn't bring herself to look at Violet. She felt completely drained and fear contorted her insides in its icy grip. How could Violet possibly stay with her when everything about her was a construct of someone else's whim? She was nothing more than a programmed robot. Her entire life had been written for her. Listlessly, hers eyes roamed the room and its contents, studiously avoiding the place she both wanted and feared to look the most; Violet's face. Warm hands cupped her cheeks and guided her face upward. She closed her eyes, unwilling to see the rejection she knew was coming.

"Chi." Violet's voice was soft yet insistent. "Open your eyes."

She tried to shake her head but her emotional out-pouring had left her too weak to do more than flinch.

"Chi," Violet's voice held a note of admonishment. "I know you're in there. I want you to look at me."

Chi sighed and opened her eyes. This was probably her last chance to see the woman she loved. Violet's aura was nearly overwhelming; Chi wondered how the young woman could possibly be unaware of it. Instead of the revulsion she expected, she could only see love and concern.

"Chi, none of that matters to me…" Violet paused and chewed on her lower lip. "No… That's not quite true."

Chi's heart, buoyed by a thin ray of hope, sank once more.

"It does matter." Violet continued. "It matters because that shaped you into the woman I fell in love with… Look at me… the real question, and only you can answer it, Chi, the real question is 'who do you want to be?'" Violet leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. "The Agency may have made your past, but you can choose your own future. You can decide who you want to be."

The hypnotic pattern of Violet's aura overwhelmed her and as she sank into unconsciousness, Violet's words echoed in her mind. "_Who do you want to be? You can decide who you want to be_."

* * *

The director fumed in his seat. He was a working man's director and the presence of so much brass in a single room with him made him very uncomfortable. Dicker's insolence wasn't helping matters any either. The senior agent had been informed of the meeting's start time and while he wasn't technically late, protocol demanded that he should have made the effort to show up not _on-time_ but significantly early. The director tried to glance at the men seated across from him without being obvious about it. He needed to judge how much Dicker's little game was going to cost him politically. None of the three faces gave anything away but he was pretty sure they all knew he was upset.

Dicker entered the room without fuss. He appeared completely unfazed by the people already assembled there. Even the director's obvious annoyance with him seemed to have no affect on him. He made his way to the coffee service laid out on a credenza and, with careful deliberation, poured himself a cup.

"If you're quite through wasting our time, Rick, I'd like to get this thing over with." The director's voice was heavy with criticism.

Dicker turned toward him then took a moment to look around the room. "We can't start yet, Sir. The psychiatrist isn't here." He paused to incline his head toward the group sitting on one side of the long conference table, "Unless one of you is a qualified psyche, familiar with this case?" His voice was pleasant and even apologetic, as though it was a completely reasonable assumption that just hadn't occurred to him until this moment.

"Quit playing around, Rick. You damn well know who everyone here is." The director growled.

"That may be true, sir, but I try to enter every situation with an open mind." His voice never wavered but the rebuke was obvious.

The director stood abruptly and strode over to Dicker. His eyes narrow, he leaned in close to the stoic agent and hissed, "You better watch your fucking tone with me, Rick. I don't care how long you've been around, this is my show now and I—" The director's words cut off as the door opened and a harried looking gentleman in a tweed jacket nervously advanced into the room.

"Sorry I'm late, sir. I…" His voice trailed off when he noticed the make-up of his audience. "Oh, my! I didn't realize this was to be a full inquiry board." He glanced at Dicker, his expression somewhere between confusion and accusation.

"Oh, I don't think you have to worry too much, Dr. Simmons." Dicker said placidly. "The director feels that the situation has deteriorated since you and I last spoke. These gentlemen are here for expediency. As the final decision will rest in their hands, it just makes sense for them to hear everything first hand." Rick waved toward a chair across the table from the military men. "Have a seat there, next to me. Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee? Water?" Simmons nodded and Dicker filled a large tumbler with ice and water before bringing it and his own coffee over and taking the seat next to the slightly confused psychiatrist.

The senior agent's choice to sit next to him seemed to calm Simmons down and after taking a sip of the water, he opened the folder he had brought with him and flipped through the pages until he found the one he wanted. "Ah, here we are." He muttered then raised his eyes and voice to address the whole table. "What we've found in the data is quite remarkable, gentlemen." He separated one sheet from the others and slid it across the table. "As you can see here, not only does the personality graph of the young lady in question no longer match her own on-file graph, it is no longer a statistical match for a generic female of her age group." While he paused to thumb through the stack of papers in the folder once more, the three men in uniform and the director all leaned in to look more closely at the graphs on the sheet in front of them.

One of the men turned to the director, "What are these graphs? Where do you get them?"

"Well," Simmons hesitated. "Everybody who is subjected to the memory alteration process has a baseline personality graph generated to monitor for adverse effects caused by the MARs. As you know, when the system was first proposed, there was concern about the process affecting core personality traits. As a precaution, everyone who has the potential to be subjected to the process is given pre and post administration personality testing." He glanced around briefly and included everyone at the table in a small gesture, "even you gentlemen have a baseline included in the database. Just in case." Oblivious to the discomfort his words caused the military men, Simmons continued, "In the last fourteen years of testing we've never had a discrepancy between pre and post testing of more than three percent, well within the margin of error inherent in psychological testing." Simmons paused to take a sip of water and a deep breath. "Until now, that is. When subject four-thousand-three-hundred-fifty-two's latest profile failed to match what was on file." The psychiatrist's voice held a note of excitement." At first I was sure it was just a glitch in the system or a misfiled PG. But when we realized it was genuine… well, I don't have to tell you gentlemen, we were all pretty surprised. Naturally we were curious about what was happening, so I had my assistant run a predictive algorithm to determine the most likely end point for this shift and then I compared that prediction to the entire agency profile database. Just to see if we had anything on file that would help us predict her future behavior. To my astonishment the data indicates that sometime over the next seventy two hours, the subject—"

"The _Subject_," Dicker interrupted dryly, "Is a young girl named 'Kari.'"

"Ah… yes." Dr. Simmons was nonplussed. "Kari, if you prefer… where… yes… seventy-two hours… Um… sometime in the next seventy-two hours the sub… Kari… the girl…" Simmons nodded, congratulating himself on finding a good compromise between Dicker's insistence on humanization and his own desire for clinical detachment. "The girl will achieve a ninety-four percentile match with one of our archived personality graphs." Simmons looked up at the men across from him with a satisfied smile, waiting for their reactions. After a few seconds, he leaned forward and spoke with some urgency. "Gentlemen, this is completely unheard of. Personalities do not change. Even after significant memory remodeling, an individual's before and after personality graphs should match! Not only is this subject's personality being changed, it's being changed into a specific, pre-programmed model."

"Do you realize what you're saying?"

"Yes! I'm saying: 'the system is in the process of re-writing her entire personality.'"

This time he got a response. "That's impossible!" "You just told us the M-A-R system was incapable of altering basic personality traits!" "You're talking about brainwashing, man!" All three of the military men were on their feet. One turned to the director, "What the hell are you guys running here? The Joint Chiefs signed off on this program and if the press gets wind of you guys brainwashing a little girl, they're gonna crucify us!"

The director was at a complete loss for words. Rage at Dicker boiled up inside of him. The man constantly made him look like a fool in front of the people who mattered. He looked frantically back and forth between the military men and Dicker, trying to think of something he could say to get control of the situation and make everyone think he was in control of the situation.

"Gentlemen..." Dicker's calm voice penetrated the confusion and outrage.

As the murmurs died down, the director fixed his most menacing stare on Dicker. "This is completely unacceptable!"

"I completely agree, Sir." Dicker, seemingly oblivious to the director's ire, calmly opened another folder and passed out stacks of papers to each of the men sitting across from him. "Here is a detailed report on the system's known capabilities and limitations. All of you were either involved in the implementation of this program or have been instrumental in the continuation of it. You're all familiar with it and you know that this is most emphatically _not_what it's for." He took a sip of coffee while the men glanced through the papers. "Unfortunately," he continued, "the fact that she's being brainwashed isn't even the worst of the news."

"How could it possibly be any worse?"

"The man who wrote the program for this system was one of the most brilliant and dangerous minds on the planet. Five years ago, he nearly succeeded in killing off all the supers. The Incredibles managed to stop him and he died trying to exact his revenge on them. I thought that was the end of it." He sighed and rubbed his hand across the stubble sprouting on his cheek. "I was wrong. He must have somehow programmed this into the system.." Dicker shook his head and closed his eyes momentarily. "This poor girl is being re-written into Buddy Pine and in less than three days, there's a good chance we're going to be dealing with Syndrome all over again."

The military men were on their feet again. "Are you telling me that The Agency funded that Syndrome deviant?" "He was working for you guys?" "Brainwashing little girls! Funding Syndrome! What the hell are you running here…?"

Clamping down on his anger, the director held up both hands. "Gentlemen," he hoped his frustration and anger at Dicker wouldn't come through too much, "What Agent Dicker neglected to mention is that Mr. Pine left The Agency many years before the 'Syndrome Incident.' I can assure you that we had nothing to do with…" He took a slow, deep breath. "We're getting way off track here. Mr. Pine's history with the agency is a matter of record, gentlemen, easily accessed by someone with your security clearance. And, I assure, the matter was investigated thoroughly at the time of the incident." He put on his most reassuring smile. "Let's focus on the current crisis. Dicker, why don't you and Simmons, give us the room so we can figure out the best course of action from here?" His voice was steady but his eyes promised retribution on a grand scale. If Dicker noticed, he didn't seem affected.

* * *

When Chi swooned, Violet picked her up and carried her over to the couch. It took a little maneuvering and some judicious use of force energy, but she got settled and situated Chi on her lap so she could hold the blonde tightly. Chi was still trembling and Violet could feel the dampness on her shoulder where Chi's tears had soaked through her T-shirt. The blonde's entire body radiated tension. Chi's hands clutched her arm and shirt tightly.

"I'm not going anywhere, Chi." She whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

Gradually the death grip loosened and Chi fell into an uneasy slumber.

As Chi relaxed, Violet had difficulty keeping her from sliding off onto the floor. The blonde's weight wasn't much but her narrow hip started cutting off the circulation in Violet's left leg and her foot was asleep. Violet supported Chi's weight with a series of small force bubbles and eased the older woman into a prone position with her head resting in Violet's lap. She absent-mindedly stroked the blonde hair as she tried to process the story she'd just heard. Her own problems with The Agency supported Chi's claims of manipulation and artificial dependency but it was hard for her to picture that kind of behavior on the scale that Chi claimed. Also it was hard to know which parts of Violet's own problems were caused by The Agency and which parts were caused by her mom. The thought caused Violet some discomfort. Chi had grown up never knowing her own mother. How petty the arguments with her mom seemed now. What was the saying? _I was sad because I had no shoes until I met a man with no feet_… Violet resolved to call her mom first thing in the morning and turned her thoughts back to the incredible story that Chi had told her. There had to be some way for her to verify what had happened. She couldn't think of a reason why Chi would make that kind of stuff up but she also had a hard time believing that the government would condone things like that. She needed to talk to someone who knew more about that kind of stuff but none of the people she could think of were unbiased.

She could hear her dad now, "_Violet, honey, there's no way something like that could happen. The only way two people can keep a secret is if one of them is dead. There'd be too many people involved in something like that and someone would talk_."

Her mom might chime in at that point, "_Yeah, besides, even if they did have some kind of program like that, it would just be to find the Supers and help them get trained. And to make sure they were good guys, you know_?"

Uncle Rick would know all about it but would he tell her anything? Would he admit that The Agency was secretly trying to breed a phalanx of supers completely loyal to them and completely under their control? Her parents were deeply indebted to The Agency but she liked to think they were working together. Her family helped out the government and with the whack-jobs and natural disasters and the government helped them by seeing to it that they didn't get embroiled in lawsuits… _How many lawsuits had been arranged behind the scenes artificially creating a need for legal and financial protection_…? Violet shook her head to clear it. All that research was making her paranoid. She looked down at the woman sleeping in her arms and reconsidered... If what Chi told her was true, then she wasn't being paranoid at all. It was clear that _someone_ was being paranoid and it was clear that for Chi's sake, she needed to find out who it was. She still had access to The Agency's records room and, as Aunt Honey always said, "_God helps them that help themselves_…"

That gave her an idea. If there was anyone out there who would give her the straight scoop, it was Honey Best. A quick trip to the archives and a chat with Aunt Honey should clear up a lot of the mystery.

* * *

Olga Skjaevelandskogstadt wasn't happy about the girl in the waiting area. While she didn't look very much like a terrorist, who could say what a terrorist looked like these days. The frizzy red hair was pulled tight around her face and gelled into a very strange looking pony tail that stuck nearly straight up. She was wearing a black jump-suit with over-sized white gloves and boots but it was the long cape that really put the whole outfit over the top. The poor girl would sit on the floor rocking back and forth while muttering to herself for a while then suddenly jump up and stride forcefully around the waiting area for a few minutes. These brief walks always brought her to Olga's desk where she would demand to know what was delaying her flight. Inevitably, when informed that her flight was still several hours away, the girl would have a brief argument with someone Olga couldn't see and return to her spot on the floor for another round of rocking and muttering. Terrorist or not, the kid was certainly not acting normal. After the third time it happened, Olga called security.

* * *

_Next Time: The circle in the spiral in the labyrinth. _

_A/N 2- I would like to thank King in Yellow, kittyore9 and otherrealwriter for their help in getting me back into the writing rhythm. Without them, this chapter would probably suck and may not have even happened._


	10. Nesting Dolls

_**Author:**__ A Markov  
__**Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
__**Chapter: **__10__/17__**  
Summary:**______Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier.__**  
Rating:**__ PG-13__**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.__**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

**Chapter 10: Nesting Dolls**

Honey Best's kitchen was a lot like her: sleek, fashionable and a little reserved. Violet sat at the granite-topped island across from Honey. Her right hand fiddled with the teabag in the mug in front of her, her left rested possessively on a large over-stuffed manila folder. "I'm really not sure how to start."

"You sounded a little confused on the phone." Honey Best watched her young guest out of the corner of her eye.

"Well," Violet temporized, "It is kind of about The Agency and…"

"Mmm-hmmm! Listen, Vi," Honey cut her off. "You know I got advice for everyone whether they need it or not. But I ain't up on all that agency stuff, sweetheart. I leave that to Lucius…" she trailed off and her expression hardened. "Unless one of them little suits gets too uppity." She shook her head and waved one hand dismissively. "For that stuff, you need to talk to Lou or Dicker."

"I can't!" Violet blurted out.

"And why not?"

Violet tried to find the right words, "'Cause I can't trust them to tell me the truth."

Honey's eyes narrowed. "That's a big accusation, Violet."

"No!" Violet cried, realizing the implication. "Not like that."

"It _sounded_ like you were callin' my husband a liar." She tilted her head to one side and pretended to examine her fingernails. "What'd you want it to sound like?"

"I'm not saying he's a liar, I just don't…" Violet fumbled around trying to voice her concerns in a way that wouldn't upset Honey. "I need to know some stuff. It's old stuff. Secret stuff…"

"Violet, I just told you I don't know anything about The Agency. That's Lucius' gig and I don't get involved with that side of his life."

"But I need your help with—"

"I just told you—"

"You grew up in the projects!"

"I don't know nuthin' about their projects." Honey insisted.

"Not those kinds of projects!" Violet interrupted again. "The _housing_ projects over in Hunter's Point."

"_What_?" Honey was very surprised and a little confused. She leaned in toward Violet. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Violet wouldn't meet her eyes. "You know about stuff. You know about real world stuff, what the real world is like." Violet babbled. "It's like I've been in a bubble my whole life. I grew up in a family of supers. We're not just supers, we're… insulated… from reality… by… stuff." She knew she was rambling but she needed to get Honey to understand her. "The Agency provides everything. School, jobs, houses… they put up these filters so that what we see isn't really real."

"You've seen some real stuff, Violet."

"That's not the point!" Violet's frustration was palpable. "Ever since Kari got shipped off to Norway, I've been reading and watching documentaries and trying to figure out what's going on in my life."

"Sweetheart, being gay isn't—"

"It's not about that!" Violet slammed her hands on the countertop and stood up. "I've been reading about _everything_! Not just about that. I've been reading about everything and I've been questioning things and I've been _listening_!" She turned away and started pacing across the slate floor. "People say stuff when they think you're too young to understand, or that you're not listening, or…" She waved her hands aimlessly. "And there are a lot of cynical people out there. A lot of people have weird theories and there's lots of paranoid whack-jobs who think the government is out to get everyone…"

"You can't believe everything you read, you know that."

"This isn't about reading anymore! This is about me! And Chi… Mirage… and what she… what they…" Violet whirled around and jabbed her finger at Honey. "You know how the real world works." Violet pleaded, "you have to tell me if they would do that to someone!"

"Do what?"

"_Brainwash her_!"

Honey stood and walked over to Violet. She took the distraught girl gently by the elbow and guided her back to her stool at the island. "Maybe you better sit down and start from the beginning."

* * *

Consciousness arrived in hesitant stages. First there was a droning that was as much vibration as sound. Then aches appeared: first in the neck, then in the hips and finally in the wrists and ankles. Cold. Cold fingers. Cold toes. Cold ears. The smell of burnt motor oil and dew on metal. The smell of machinery. A high-pitched whine cut through the drone, suddenly noticeable as it abruptly changed pitch. The world tilted.

_An airplane. I'm in an airplane._ The thought was accompanied by the image of the inside of a large military transport plane. _I'm tied-up, lying on the floor of an airplane…_ Anger surged. _I'm tied-up. I'm on the floor…? A cot? In an airplane…and the airplane is… _It was doing something very important. It was…

"YES, TELL THE DIRECTOR WE'VE GOT THE ENTIRE FAMILY." The shouting penetrated the droning vibrations and high-pitched whine. "TELL HIM WE'VE GOT THE ENTIRE FAMILY JUST LIKE HE ORDERED. WE'LL BE AT THE STAVENGER AIR STATION IN TWENTY MINUTES AND ON OUR WAY TO THE STATES IN AN HOUR."

_Flying to America? _The idea brought some comfort but was railed against by an unidentified part of her… or was it him? Confusion reigned in the mind and consciousness retreated.

* * *

The director shuffled through the papers on the table in front of him while Dicker and the doctor gathered their various briefing materials and made their exit. The military men were still stunned by the psychiatrist's information and they fiddled uncomfortably in their chairs, exchanging worried glances and whispers. He forced himself to take even breaths and did his best to project an aura of calm control. He needed to get on top of the situation that Dicker had just made suddenly and regrettably public. Why couldn't the senior agent bring things like this to him through normal channels instead of blurting out sensitive information at the worst possible moment? Between the Parr girl poking her nose into the wrong places and Dicker making him look like a fool, he was going to be hard pressed to come out of this with his job intact. As soon as the door shut behind the senior agent and the doctor, he cleared his throat and went on the offensive. "The girl in the example you have there is just a symptom of a much deeper problem." He said solemnly. "On her own, her situation is troubling, but not problematic enough to merit your direct attention."

"I'd say the implications of this… _situation,_ as you put it, are very troubling, director." One of the men spoke up. He paused to exchange glances with the men sitting on either side of him and continued, "Troubling enough to warrant not only our attention but the attention of our superiors as well." He leaned forward and his voice took on a menacing tone. "But we'll deal with how far you're over-stepping your mission parameters after you explain why you think brainwashing our nation's youth isn't an actual problem, just a symptom of one."

The director realized he was in the deep end and the men across from him were already planning on letting him drown. It didn't matter that they'd all signed off on the projects. If the situation became public, he was going to hang alone. His only chance for survival was to offer up another scape goat. Fortunately, he had one handy. "Well, to start with, this situation was discovered by an internal investigation into a suspected mole." He opened up the folder in front of him, pulled out a photo of a dark-skinned woman with white-blonde hair and slid it across the table. "Last year, Dicker brought this woman in as a consultant. She promised him portable memory alteration technology and her people have been working in close proximity to the main MAR systems." He could see skepticism on their faces, but it was better than seeing his doom. "On my orders, Internal affairs investigated her background and found that she had worked with that Syndrome character for several years! Her code name was Mirage. If the girl…" He paused and made a big show of consulting his notes. "Kari, is turning into Syndrome, then it is most likely something this woman has done to the system."

"Director, if you're aware of this, why hire her in the first place?"

"Believe me, gentlemen, that is the question I am trying to get answered." He leaned back and spread his hands out. "This came to light about a week after she was brought in on the project and I immediately took steps to isolate her from the sensitive parts of the system. It looks like those measures were not enough."

"I notice that you didn't remove her from the project entirely."

"My senior staff insisted that having access to a portable memory alteration technology was worth the risk." The director shook his head sadly. "As soon as I found out about the Kari girl, I assure you that all of her work was suspended and we removed all her people from the project."

"When you say senior staff…"?

The director pursed his lips to keep the satisfied smile off his face. "Internal affairs is looking at each member of the senior staff individually to determine if any of them is culpable in this. You all know how long an internal investigation of this kind takes…" He jabbed the reports on the table. "The girl is the first solid evidence we've got! The result of several months worth of hard work."

"And you believe that agent Dicker involved?"

The director leaned back in his seat and sighed dramatically. "There's no _physical_ evidence that Dicker knows what's going on." He said slowly, "But he _is_ the one who brought this Mirage woman in so I'm not ruling anything out at this time." He spread his hands out, "Gentlemen, your attention has been brought here at a very delicate time. The Agency _does_ have a very serious problem and, sadly, one of our most trusted agents might be a part of it. Internal Affairs is working overtime to find out how big the problem really is _and_ to find a solution. Please, help me keep this organization working for the common good by letting me do my job."

He opened a second folder and handed out sheets to each man. "Now, as you can see here, there is a pattern of control loss all starting approximately one year ago. On page one, you'll see a summary of a report from a very promising junior agent, name of 'Johnson,' who went completely insane while working as Dicker's partner." The military men turned their attention to the handouts in front of them and the director felt some of his tension release. "Page two holds the timeline of the agent's mental deterioration and the subsequent consequences. As you can see, the fall-out from that series of unfortunate events resulted in significant infrastructural damage." One of the men turned to the other to ask for clarification on a point and the director allowed himself a small triumphant smile. "Turning to page three you'll find a detailed diagnostic report on the MAR system taken three weeks after that Mirage woman was first brought in. When compared with the previous systems' check…"

* * *

"Uncle Rick! Uncle Rick!" The echoes of the excited shouts were punctuated by the sound of running feet. "I didn't make fire all the way here! I'm a good boy!"

Dicker stepped out of his office and crouched down to greet his youngest guest face to face. "You sure are," the normally stoic agent said with an enthusiasm only the youngest member of the Incredibles' family could elicit from him. "And good boys get to use the brand new training range."

"With the real fire trucks and heli-coppers?" Jack-Jack's eyes widened.

"I'll take him over and get him set-up." Dash volunteered as he and his parents caught up with Jack outside Dicker's office. He managed to keep all the resignation out of his voice, but his shoulders did have a little slump to them.

"Actually, Dash," Dicker countered as he stood up, "I was hoping you could sit in with your parents and me for this de-briefing" Dicker's request startled the teenager and his eyes grew nearly as large as his little brother's. "I'll have agent Stewart run Jack through the course today." The senior agent accompanied his good news with a nod of his head to the young agent weaving through the cube farm toward them.

"Really!" Dash blurted out before getting himself under control. "I mean… um… Yes. Of course, Agent Dicker. I'd be honored." Dash was flustered enough to miss his mother's arched eyebrow and his father's indulgent grin.

"Every member of the team can benefit from a review, and you're old enough now to have some valuable input." Dicker raised an eyebrow at Dash's huge grin, "you're also old enough to take some constructive criticism."

"Uncle Rick, aren't you gonna watch?" Jack asked as a young agent beckoned him toward the training area.

"Not right now, Kiddo. But agent Stewart will record it and, later, you and me'll sit down and watch it together." He smiled as Jack hurried off, pulling on the agent's arm to get him to move faster.

"_Every_ member of the team, Rick?" Helen's tone was conversational but her expression held the promise of doom.

"Yes, Helen, every member of the team." He stepped out of the doorway and motioned for them to proceed him into the office. "If you'll go in and make yourselves comfortable, we can get right to it."

Helen glanced around before moving, "Is Vi already here?"

"No, Helen—"

"Is she coming?"

Dicker gestured for her to step into the room. "Let's step into my office. I have some video footage from the incident last week cued up."

"Is she in trou—"

"Helen!" Bob's frustrated voice came from inside the office, "Let's get the debrief done first, you can grill Rick about Violet later."

* * *

"Did you know Chi… Mirage… was an orphan?"

"Call her 'Chi,' sweetheart. I know who you mean." Honey waved dismissively. "But I didn't know she grew up without a family."

"Well, she did. She grew up in an orphanage in Mexico. The Agency adopted her when she was seven, 'cause she could see auras. They brought her to the States and put her in a special school to train her and enhance her powers. She worked for them her whole life. From the time she was a kid, her whole life, in The Agency compound. She lived there, trained there, went to school there, everything. They never let her leave."

"I'm sure there were—"

"Ten years, Aunt Honey. They never let her leave the compound by herself for almost ten years. It's in her file." Violet patted the manila folder on the island in front of her.

"How'd you get your hands on that?"

Violet gave a little shrug. "Uncle Rick gave me full access to the records room. Most of it is electronic but I found the old paper files. Turns out, that's where the stuff they don't want anyone to know is."

"And does anyone know where that file is right now?" Honey arched an eyebrow. Violet wouldn't meet her gaze. "Uhm-hmph… What happened after the ten years?"

"Well, after, like, seven years, when she was fourteen, they started taking her out to different places. Mostly to check on kids that might have some kind of super powers. That's one of the things she could see, you know, energy is a kind of aura and if someone has a psi power, she can see when they use it. So she used to get taken out to these kid's houses and check if they were supers or not. If they were, then The Agency adopted them and brought them to the compound." Violet stared down at her hands, twisting her fingers together. "There are a lot of records of kids. I… I didn't go through them but I saw them; lots of shelves full of boxes in… I guess I'm not sure I want to know what happened to them." Violet trailed off uncomfortably and picked up her mug of tea.

Honey let her fiddle with the teabag for a few minutes before quietly asking; "You said something about brainwashing?"

"Yeah, you remember Syndrome?"

Honey nodded. How could she forget the catalyst for reintroducing the supers into society?

"Did you know he used to work for The Agency? You know, before he was Syndrome."

"Violet, I don't think…" but Honey couldn't finish the thought.

"He did." Violet was a little defensive. "He's the one who designed the memory zapper thing. He designed a lot of the equipment they use. I guess he was pretty smart."

"Ahem, brainwashing?"

"Chi was part of the project. The memory zapper thing. She checked people's auras before and after they… she helped them get it right. I guess Syndrome… His name was Mr. Pine back then, really liked her and when he decided to leave, he asked her to go with him."

"Yeah, that part we know about."

"No, we don't!" Violet insisted. "She didn't want to go. She didn't like him."

"They didn't get along?"

"Well, I guess they worked together O.K. but he was all in to her and she didn't like him that way. She liked girls, she's always liked girls. But she told her boss that he was planning to leave and… she doesn't really remember anything after that."

"What do you mean?"

"She went to her boss to tell him about Mr. Pine leaving The Agency and then… she was Mirage and she was in love with Syndrome… and she followed him to Nomanisan Island… She helped him find the supers and… She didn't even remember about being at The Agency until last week when we were in San Diego."

"They erased her memories?"

"They didn't just erase her memories, they changed who she was." Violet insisted. "I looked up the memory project. It isn't supposed to do that. It's only supposed to create a pleasant but undefined feeling about the time that got erased."

"You're saying they changed her. Changed her sexual orientation. Made her think she was in love with Syndrome?"

"Well, he wasn't Syndrome then."

"You know what I mean!"

"Yes!" Violet chewed on her lower lip. "and…"

"What else?"

"She was sixteen, Aunt Honey, she wasn't even…" Violet closed her eyes. "She was sixteen."

"Are you sure about this, Violet?" Honey's stomach was roiling. "That's… maybe she's lying to you?"

"I don't know." Violet closed her eyes briefly. "That's why I wanted to talk to you. You know about real world stuff and what people will really do." She absent mindedly caressed the folder in front of her. "I'm pretty sure someone is lying, but… Here's her file. It matches what she told me pretty close." Violet abruptly pushed the folder across the island. "Except they say she volunteered to go and that her memories were altered so Syndrome wouldn't find out… But the other stuff is in there too. About her being gay and the orphanage and stuff." Violet looked at Honey, her expression pleading. "Someone's lying. Please help me figure out if it's her or them."

Honey looked across the kitchen island at the young woman in front of her. The confusion was plain on her face. It was a mix of hope and fear but Honey didn't know which outcome Violet was hoping for and which one she feared. She skimmed the page that Violet had opened the folder to. A frown formed on her face as she went back to the top of the page and read it more thoroughly. Her concern deepened as she began flipping through to different sections of the file in a quick series of cross-references. "Violet," she said without looking up. "You're right. There's definitely something fishy here." She closed the file and set it on the island. "But I'm not the one who can explain it to you. You're going to have to bring this to Rick."

Honey held up her hand to stave off Violet's protest. "I know you don't think you can trust him because he might be 'one of them.' But he's not." A well-manicured fingernail poked at Violet. "You may have known him for all your life," The fingernail jabbed back at its owner. "but I've known Rick for longer than you've been alive, Violet, and I can promise you this: He would kill someone without hesitation, but he would _never_ brainwash them." The fingernail tapped the folder on the island, "You bring him this file and tell him what you told me. He'll get to the bottom of whatever is going on."

"Really?"

"Really." Honey pushed the file toward Violet and changed the subject. "How's Chi doing?"

"She was asleep when I left. After she told me all that stuff, she just kind of collapsed into herself. I think she's really afraid that she's losing her mind. I think she's trying to figure out who she really is."

* * *

Low and high pressure systems dance with each other across the world's surface. Like young suitors, shy about approaching too closely, they skip and turn about one another. Dancing, teasing, flirting but never committing. Warm air rises from the surface in one area. Cool air falls in another. The winds bring water and life but they also take it away. The forces balance against each other and maintain a kind of rhythm. Sometimes, the imbalances come together and whirl around each other mixing in a brief but intense storm. Sudden drops in pressure can cause momentary surges of energy and activity. Sudden surges in pressure chase everything else away creating areas of eerie calm. Often, the conditions all come together 'just so' and the storm finds a center and cohesion. Usually the impact is short-lived and localized. Occasionally, the dance of the high and low pressure systems will come together and form a fearsome entity lasting for days, and the threat is felt across a large community.

Rarely, the combination of elemental forces will be so fearsome, so destructive, so devastating that an entire region is held under its sway. Those unfortunate enough to be affected by it barricade themselves in and hide from it, trembling in fear. In the most extreme cases people flee for their lives barely taking time to grab those few possessions they deem most dear. It is hard for an ordinary human to wrap their mind around these kinds of forces. That much devastation and fury must have some kind of intelligence behind it. There must be some explanation. There must be someone to blame. In the dark, early days of mankind, storms of this scale were attributed to vengeful Gods. Even in the modern era, as man comes to understand the forces of nature at work, there is a primal desire to place the blame for destruction somewhere. And when a storm gets big enough and powerful enough it is still given a name. The names of the most powerful storms are passed down from generation to generation, uttered by the survivors, their children and their grandchildren with reverence and fear.

_Camille… Hugo… Floyd… Katrina…_

Here, in this unidentified place, a sudden vacuum has occurred and a great pressure which has spent weeks, months, perhaps even years building in the surrounding area rushes in and collapses into itself. There is no center. There is no pattern. There is only chaos and turbulence. It is a primal force with no definition. Tattered remnants caught up from its path of destruction churn in the maelstrom, grinding themselves into pieces too small to be identifiable. Thousands of tiny cyclones rip through the larger chaos and each other, adding to the bedlam. The ear-shattering shrieking of the wind, the flying dust and the bone crushing gale forces obscure any sense of time or place. She is everywhere. She is nowhere. She is deaf, blind and unable to draw breath. There is nothing to reference, nothing for comparison, no way to judge. And then… a whisper. One whisper, one remnant of the past, one piece of detritus finds itself spinning in the calm center of a perfect funnel.

_The woman I fell in love with._

And with a mighty roar, the endless chaos finds that center. For in this storm's boundless chaotic fury, there are pieces of a shattered life. There are aspects of the past that are acceptable to the idea at the newly formed center and from the debris and detritus of the past, something is building. The low pressure area is stable now and the chaos of the storm is resolving into a single cyclonic system revolving around the central idea. The shrieking of the wind resolves into a single menacing thrum. The flying dust aligns itself in a recognizable pattern. The gusts and eddies are subsumed, integrated into the larger laminar flow pattern. And didn't she have permission? Wasn't she given dispensation to do just this? To resolve the chaos into purpose? To take the jumbled, unfocused energy of the past and create a powerful new future?

_You can decide who you want to be._

And now, the storm is cohesive. The fury and power of the high pressure system has found a low pressure center to revolve around. Now she has an identity. Now she has cohesion. Now she has a direction. Now she can choose the bits that make up her new self. And as she selects which parts to integrate and which parts to discard, piece by piece, she finds herself growing. Growing in strength. Growing in focus. Growing in power. Her chaotic storm has formed into a hurricane.

And she has a name...

* * *

_Next Time: The Syns of the past._

**_Author's note:_**_ Once again, I'd like to thank my beta readers for helping make this chapter better. _King in Yellow, audi katia, otherrealmwriter, kittyore9 _and _Mewpainappuru_._


	11. Europa Rising

_**Author:**__ A Markov  
__**Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
__**Chapter: **__11__/17  
**Summary:**________S______equel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier._**  
Rating:**_ PG-13__**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.__**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

**Chapter 11: Europa Rising**

Dicker paused the playback on the screen and turned to the young man studying it intently. "So you see, Dash. If you time it right, you can avoid slowing down to open doors. This time it didn't really matter, but practice that kind of timing and when you really need an extra half a second, you'll have it."

"Cool!" Dash nodded. "I never thought about it like that."

"That's why we try to have these debrief sessions occasionally." Dicker continued. "And now that you're a part of them, I'm going to expect to see improvement from you." He wiggled his eyebrows in mock seriousness, "That means I'm expecting you to spend some of your free time in training."

"Aw, Man!" Dash flopped back into his chair in an exaggerated manner. "That's like… _homework_!"

"Well, super-heroing is more than just punching bad guys and meeting pretty girls."

Dash sat back up. "There are pretty girls?"

"Of course there are, sport." Bob chimed in. "How do you think I met your mother?"

"EEEW!"

Bob reached across the round table and held out a hand, which Helen took with exaggerated coyness. "Pay no attention to the boy, my dear." He said with a slight bow. "He has no appreciation for true beauty." Bob finished with a wink and a light kiss on the back of his wife's hand.

Helen smiled appreciatively. "Don't worry, Dash," she said over her shoulder to the boy. "I'm sure there's a pretty girl out there who doesn't look anything like your ugly old mom."

"That's not what I meant. I just… uh… Well…" Dash reddened.

"Tell you what, Dash," Helen smiled. "You sit your brother tonight, so your dad and I can have some quiet time, and I'll forgive you."

The youngster flopped back in his chair in exaggerated relief. "It's a deal."

There was a light knock on the door, and Violet poked her head into the room. "Did I miss anything?"

Dicker beckoned her in. "Not really, just going over some timing techniques with Dash."

Violet gave her dad a quick one-armed hug and squeezed her mom's shoulder as she slipped into the open seat between her and Dash. She slid the satchel she was carrying under the seat with one hand and reached out to tousle Dash's hair with the other but he dodged out of the way. Violet giggled when he smashed his face into the force bubble she'd formed in anticipation of his evasion.

"No practical jokes at the debriefings, Violet," Bob admonished her with mock seriousness.

"Yeah, not since the terrible guacamole incident of oh-nine!" She smirked.

"We swore to never speak of that again," Helen chimed in, barely keeping a straight face.

Dash sat up a little straighter, rubbing his cheek. "What incident?"

Helen smiled indulgently and shook her head. "Never mind, Dash, there was no incident. We're just being silly."

Dash's eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out if he was being teased, or they were hiding something from him. His musing was interrupted by Dicker clearing his throat.

"Ahem. Violet, do you have anything specific for us?"

Violet's eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across her face. "Yes!" She pointed at the paused image of the court room on the screen across the table from them. "Do you have video of the part where I corralled Beast Boy—"

"Beas_tro._"

"He named himself after a French cafe?"

"Kind of."

"What was his problem with the City Council, anyway?" Bob asked. "Why'd he kidnap them?"

Dash rolled his eyes. "Weren't you listening to him rant, dad?"

Bob leaned back and waved dismissively. "There's only so much monologueing a man can take."

"He blamed the City Council for the failure of his restaurant."

"What'd they do, pass some new ordinance or something?"

"No, they just stopped meeting there."

"And what did that have to do with the guy from the towing company?"

"I have no idea." Dicker cued up the video and, at a nod from Violet, began to play it.

"See right here?" she said breathlessly. "I used a toroid to corral him and his two dog things."

"What's a toroid?"

"A doughnut."

"What's so special about that?"

"I've only made globes before. This is the first time I made a different shape with my force projection."

"That's great, sweetie," Bob said, then frowned at the action unfolding on the screen. "Why does it look like my job was to be bait?"

Violet laughed. "Probably 'cause your job was to be the bait."

Helen relaxed in her chair. Violet seemed to be doing well. Her personal choices, while completely incomprehensible, were working for her. Helen considered the idea that she had misjudged that blonde woman, but was still unwilling to completely trust her. Of course, if Violet continued to bloom, she might actually have to forgive Mirage. While still distasteful, the thought no longer made her skin crawl. She glanced over at Dicker. The man had hinted at some kind of past connection between The Agency and that blonde; she would have to get him alone and grill him about it. Edna might know something too. A sidelong glance at her daughter brought a smile to Helen's lips. The girl's enthusiasm was catching and it was hard not to be drawn into it. She wondered if she'd ever been that optimistic and enthusiastic and looked over at Bob. He had a silly grin on his face and she could tell he was enjoying this aspect of their daughter's personality. She made a long foot under the table and stroked his calf. The smile that lit his face wasn't silly at all and it was just for her.

"And on that note," Dicker's voice cut through her reverie, as he stood up and began collecting the debriefing materials, "we're done for the day."

Helen looked at the clock. Where had her mind been for the last twenty minutes?

"Vi, do you have time for dinner tonight?" Helen felt a twinge of disappointment as her daughter hesitated.

"Well, Chi was asleep when I left…" Violet began but when she saw the look of disappointment on her mother's face she relented. "Tell you what, let me call and check on her real quick," she pointed to the phone on Dicker's desk, "and then we'll go grab a cup of coffee."

Helen nodded and started to say something but a shout from the outer office distracted her. "Mommy! Come see what I did to the heli-copper!"

When the door closed behind her mother, Violet reached not for the phone, but for the satchel she had stuffed under her chair when she first came in. Dicker regarded her silently as she pulled out a thick manila folder and set it on the table in front of him. She waited for him to say something, give something away, give her a sign that he knew what she was doing or where she got the folder, but he said nothing and his expression remained completely neutral.

She rolled her eyes and grumbled, "Remind me to never play poker with you." Violet put her hand flat on the folder and pushed it toward him. "This is Chi's file, from the old days. She says she never volunteered to go with Mr. Pine and I believe her but her file says something different." She paused and watched him carefully, but there was still no change in his expression. "There's a lot of stuff wrong with this file; page numbers skipped, pages that don't match, handwriting that doesn't match what's on the rest of the page… Makes it look like someone went through it and made some changes." She spent the next few minutes giving Dicker the Cliff-notes version of the story Chi had told her and an overview of her conversation with Honey. When she finished, she waited for him to say something, but after a few moments of dead silence and blank stares, she gave an exasperated sigh. "Something fishy went on and I'd like some reassurance that: a) you guys aren't in the habit of brainwashing people. And b)the woman I'm in love with isn't a sociopath."

"I'll look into it."

"And you'll tell me the truth?"

Dicker raised an eyebrow.

"I've been lied to a lot, Uncle Rick, and I'm getting really tired of it."

"I've never lied to you, Violet."

"Not that I know of." If the accusation stung, he didn't let it show. Violet chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. "That didn't come out right. What I'm trying to say is that I'm a big girl now. I don't need to be coddled." She locked eyes with him. Surprisingly it was Dicker who gave way first and gave her a little nod. With a grimace, Violet slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

Dicker let out a sigh and sank heavily into his chair. Violet was a good kid, and she deserved some answers. Unfortunately the questions she was asking were going to make several key people even more nervous than they already were. Add in the whole thing with her apparently hypnotizing the people around her… For the moment, she had no idea of what she was doing, but soon she'd figure it out, like the toroid thing. With Kari's situation and the breakdown of the MAR system, having a young girl with the ability to hypnotically influence everyone around her, including family and friends… That went beyond making a few people nervous straight to making a lot of people very afraid. If the director figured out her full potential before she did, she'd be in real trouble. He had the political pull to institutionalize her for the sake of "national security" or some other trumped up reason.

Dicker slapped his desk in frustration. He'd just got Violet calmed down and back on track after the screw-up with the McKeen family last year. He had to come up with some way to get her to realize what was going on so she could get some control of it. Maybe he could set up a meeting with Lucius and Honey at their place. The woman was paranoid and her house was as likely to be free of surveillance as anywhere on earth. He was getting old. If this blew up, who knew how far the repercussions would go? Mirage wasn't exaggerating very much when she said that Violet could pretty much make anyone do whatever she wanted and make them like it to boot. Right now, she was a relatively happy young woman in love. If The Agency handled this the wrong way, there was no telling what she might become.

Dicker made a fresh pot of coffee and settled in to read through the file carefully. He was about halfway through both when he was interrupted by a knock on his door.

"Agent Dicker?" Mirage's voice floated in. "I hoped I'd find you here."

* * *

Dr. Simmons waved the director toward a chair facing the large observation window. On the other side of it, a young red-haired woman was sitting on the floor surrounded by bits of broken machinery. She seemed to be intently searching for something specific in the piles of parts. The director watched for a moment before turning his attention to the doctor. "How is she? Any more rants about revenge?"

"Not since we put her on the Aripiprazole. She seems to have reached a stable mental equilibrium with the 'Syndrome' personality completely dominating."

"You've had her for several days now. Are you sure she's completely convinced that she's Buddy Pine?"

Dr. Simmons shook his head absent-mindedly. "That's not what I reported," he said slowly. "She believes she is _Syndrome_."

"Same thing." The director's voice was dismissive.

This brought a frown to the doctor's face, and he turned to face the director completely. "The mind is a funny thing, Director, and I am not given to imprecision of speech." He didn't even try to keep his annoyance out of his voice. "When I tell you 'the Syndrome personality is completely dominant,' I want you to understand that the personality in that mind doesn't think of itself as 'Mr. Pine,' but as a completely different entity with no real connection to him or to this place."

"Pine was Syndrome. Syndrome was Pine," the director snapped. "They're the same thing."

"That isn't the case here," Simmons insisted. "If you think along those lines, you might end up—"

The director cut him off with a gesture. "I'll leave the psycho-spiritual mumbo-jumbo to you and the chaplains, Doc." He jabbed a finger at the figure in the other room. "Is there any possibility that she'll inherit his genius, or is she just playing?"

The doctor pointed at an intricate device on the table to his left. "She's already built a continuous wave laser dazzler out of parts scavenged from a disk player and a television, and this morning I took away a device with the potential to be a universal remote control."

"For the laser dazzler?"

The doctor regarded him with narrowed eyes for a moment. "U-ni-ver-sal," he said through a clenched jaw, pausing between each syllable.

"You can't be serious."

Simmons bit back on his frustration. "I sent it down to the lab; you can go see it for yourself. At the very least, it would have been able to control everything in this room."

"I see." The director's eyes narrowed and he chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "Is she aware that she's a prisoner?"

"So far, we've kept her somewhat distracted and unaware that her movements are restricted. I don't believe we can keep the knowledge from her for more than another day at best, more likely a few hours. At that point, I can't predict how she will behave."

"Don't worry, Doc," the director said thoughtfully as he prepared to leave. "By then we'll be able to turn our full attention here and she won't be your problem anymore."

* * *

Violet rolled over and shut off the alarm. She'd already been awake for a while; she wasn't sure exactly how long. The bed seemed so much bigger without Chi in it and she had slept fitfully without her the last couple of nights. As she went through her morning routine, she wondered for the umpteenth time over the last two days where the blonde woman was and what she was doing. After the debrief a couple days ago and her subsequent talk with Dicker, she'd come home to an empty house and a note. She glanced over at the refrigerator where it was still held in place by a magnet.

_Vi,  
Everything is clear now. I know what I have to do.  
If everything goes right, we'll be together soon.  
If not, I want you to know that the time I spent  
with you was the happiest of my life.  
Love,  
Chi._

It wasn't exactly the most confidence inspiring sentiment. The last part sounded like "goodbye." Violet wondered what the blonde was doing and what would happen if it didn't go right. Was she doing something illegal? Would getting away with it be "everything going right?" If she was doing something illegal, Violet wasn't sure she could force herself to bring her in. If she couldn't, did that make her culpable? An accessory? What would she do if Dicker called her up and told her she had to bring Chi in? She was positive that she could find Chi anywhere. But what then? Would she bring her in, or would the two of them run off together? If they did, would Dicker make her mom and dad come after them? Would they do it, or would they refuse? Could they do that? Maybe they would join them in exile rather than betray their own daughter? Would they all have to live life on the run? What about Dash? Jack? The whole thing was giving her a headache.

When the Incrediphone beeped at her, she was so relieved to have something else to think about she nearly tripped over a chair trying to reach it.

* * *

Dicker shut the file, yawned and glanced out the window. It was morning again. With one hand he rubbed the stubble on his cheek absentmindedly. How long since he'd been home? Two days? He grabbed a cup of coffee and a Danish from the break room then headed down to the basement of the Agency building. He took his time, making sure he wasn't observed as he entered the subterranean hallway. The long passage was dimly lit and the monotony of its dingy walls was only emphasized by the dozens of identical doors spaced at regular intervals along its length. He stopped in front of a door no different than any of the others and softly rapped on it with the knuckle of his index finger.

_Tat-tatta-tat-tat_

The door opened almost immediately and an amused whisper escaped into the hall. "_Two bits_."

Dicker slipped into the room and shut the door softly behind him. He didn't notice the quiet whir of a camera's lens.

The room was crowded with boxes and ancient computer servers. Rectangular fluorescent light fixtures recessed into the low dropped ceiling provided harsh, flickering light. The inadequate air conditioning system struggled to keep the temperature at just below sweltering. On a rickety, pock-marked folding table against the wall, someone had set up a state of the art laptop station. Dry erase markers and paper plates with half-eaten pastries shared the remaining table space with stacks of used Styrofoam cups. A woman's tailored jacket, crumpled and creased, hung over the back of a beat-up folding chair that was pulled out just far enough from the table that he could make out a pair of designer sling backs carelessly discarded under it. The owner of the jacket and shoes was not immediately in evidence. File folders and loose papers covered every available horizontal surface. Above the table, attached to the wall was a large whiteboard with various papers and photos taped to it and what appeared to be gibberish scribbled into every available space. Circles and lines of many different colors surrounded the gibberish and linked it in patterns of clashing colors that, on first glance, appeared to be completely random; Mirage had been busy since his last visit to check on her. Dicker spent nearly a minute peering at it, but wasn't able to determine a pattern in the chaos on the wall in front of him. One word jumped out at him though: "Brutus." For a moment he was transported back in time.

"_This isn't the Roman Empire, Jake, and you sure as hell aren't Caesar!"_

"_Calm down, Rick. It's just a code word."_

"_It's not just a code word. It's a brand. Just because someone has a mind of their own, doesn't mean they're a traitor!"_

"Isn't 'shave and a haircut' a little stogy even for you, Dicker?"

The sudden emergence of Mirage from behind one of the servers and her mocking comment pulled Rick out of his memory. He gave a little shrug and sniffed. "I like the classics."

She held up a folder with the word "Brutus" stamped on it in large red letters. "There's a lot of that going around." In her other hand she had two pieces of paper. She held them out to him. "Everything boils down to this."

Dicker looked the woman over as he took the proffered pages. After two days stuck in a basement with no A/C, the usually immaculate blonde was showing signs of wear and tear. Her silk blouse was stained with sweat and her designer skirt was creased from days of wear and neglect. Her hair hung limply and looked a little greasy. Dark circles defined her eyes. From the moment she'd stormed into his office two days ago, she'd been working feverishly. First retrieving all of Buddy Pine's files then using her first-hand knowledge of his operation on Nomanisan to cross reference his activities with old agency records. The preliminary results had been chilling.

In the brief time that their eyes met, he could see the fatigue and the pain behind them. She was nearly spent. Most of the food he'd brought her was still sitting on the table and he wondered if she'd slept at all in the last forty hours. He turned his attention to the papers she'd handed him. The top page contained two lists of names of deceased supers. One column was headed by the word that had caught his attention on the white board: "Brutus." The second column was headed with the phrase "Natural causes."

Dicker paused reading about halfway down the second column and looked up at her with a bemused expression. "Getting strangled by having your cape get caught on a rocket is considered 'natural causes?'" he asked.

"It is if you're a superhero with an 80 IQ."

Dicker sniffed reflectively and nodded, conceding the point. "I hope you're not charging me extra for the irony."

Chi shrugged one shoulder. "No, the irony is included. It's sarcasm that I charge extra for." A sardonic smile tugged at her lips. "Which is, I suppose, ironic."

Dicker glanced back and forth between the next page and the white board. His brow furrowed. "You've got 'KRONOS'files cross-referenced with 'Brutus'files on all of these names." He sighed and dropped his chin to his chest, rubbing his forehead with the fingers of his free hand. "I didn't want to believe it," he said, dropping the papers on the nearest flat surface. "Everything Violet said pointed to it. All the data in the MAR report you sent over to my office earlier this week pointed to it, but I didn't want to believe it."

Dicker walked over to the table and faced the whiteboard. He only had eyes for the pattern that had now emerged from the chaos spread out on the wall. "Someone was feeding their names and locations to you." He muttered to himself. "Someone from The Agency was getting rid of the supers they considered unreliable by feeding their names to you. Someone who knew where you were and what you were doing. Someone very high up—"

A quiet sob interrupted his musings. Looking over at her he could see that she was trying to keep her composure, but her part in what had happened was weighing heavily on her mind. She was taking the whole thing personally and he couldn't blame her; she'd been used to accomplish some very nasty dealings.

He tried to reassure her. "It wasn't your fault, you know. You weren't—"

She cut him off with a glare and a snarl. "I was."

"You know what I mean."

She nodded curtly. "And _you_ know what _I_ mean." She tapped her forehead. "It's all up here. I was there. _Me_." Her thumb jabbed into her chest. "People are dead because of me, because of what I've done. Good people. And you've got no business telling me it that wasn't really me or that I didn't have a choice, because you weren't there. I was. And I did those things. Me. And it doesn't matter to me why I did it, only that I did. So you can keep you little platitudes to yourself because I'm the one who has to live with it."

"You don't have to remember…"

"_Don't you dare!_" she shouted, backing away from him. "Don't you even _think_ about it! There is no way it'll ever happen!" Her left hand found the back of the folding chair, her knuckles whitened by the strength of her grip. Her right hand fluttered around in front of her warding him off. "I'll kill myself before I let you near me with that thing again!"

"I wasn't the one who—"

"I DON'T CARE!" she screamed, moving behind the chair and holding it between them defensively. "BACK OFF!"

He regarded her carefully. She was on the edge of hysteria and he recognized that he was a symbol of what had been done to her. Deliberately, he spread the fingers of his free hand and took a step back. She relaxed slightly, but still held the chair in front of her, a combination shield and weapon. With exaggerated care, he moved over to the whiteboard. Chi moved to keep the chair between them as he approached. He stood facing the board for several minutes, nothing moving but his eyes. They flicked back and forth across the board, absorbing the information and storing it. Abruptly, he grabbed a dry eraser and started cleaning everything off. He ignored her sounds of protest and spoke without turning. "Please put all the files back where you found them. I'll have a car take you…" This time her sharp intake of breath gave him pause. "No, I don't suppose you'd be comfortable with that right now. Maybe not ever. Call for your own car. Have your own people get you home." He finished erasing the board and turned to face her. "And, Chi, it wouldn't be a bad idea to keep a couple of them around. Just in case."

Dicker helped her restore the files and collect her electronics before he cracked the door and checked the hallway. Before she could slip out, he held up his hand. "I have one more question before you leave." Her eyes narrowed and she regarded him with defiant suspicion. He tried to gesture reassuringly. "I just need to know who your handler was."

"Jacobs." With that, she was out the door before she could see his look of dismay.

* * *

Violet arrived at the address her brother had given her over the Incrediphone and looked around wondering if she'd come to the right place. Dash had been frantic when he called, maybe he'd been confused about where he was. She did a quick three-hundred-and-sixty degree sweep before reaching for her phone. The building next to her exploded. She threw up a force shield to protect herself from flying debris. When the dust cleared, she could see her dad standing in the remains of the building's foundation, straining against a massive robot. The thing looked like a tank, but where the gun turret should have been, there were two articulated hydraulic arms ending in massive claws. It looked like the robot was winning. She looked around, frantically. What had caused the explosion? And where were her mom and Dash?

"_SPEEDY_!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, as she ran toward her dad. A whistling noise alerted her to an attack from behind. She threw out another force shield bubble, and spun around in mid-air to face her attacker. She had just enough time to see a long flexible metal arm sweeping toward her before it made contact with her force shield and sent her flying sideways. She expanded the bubble slightly, and made it as flexible as she dared. She was still spinning and caught only a quick glimpse of her attacker. It was another robot. This one had the same tank-like base, but in place of the articulated claws, there were several metal appendages sprouting from the top of it like Medusa's locks.

"_ELASTIGIRL_!" Why couldn't her family have picked one syllable names? Her bubble rebounded off a concrete wall. She wasn't ready for the rapid direction reversal and her shoulder smashed into the wall. She bit off an exclamation of pain, then allowed herself a small curse under her breath when she saw that she was headed straight back at the robot. It was winding up for another swing. Violet concentrated on keeping the bubble intact while she faded from view but the robot's sensor array still seemed to be tracking her. She tried not to panic, but realized there was no way the thing was going to miss her unless it thought she was somewhere else. At that moment the robot's sensors jerked upward and the flexible arm continued toward her, but at an angle that put it slightly above her. She watched in confusion as it passed through a flickering image above her head. Something about the image was familiar but before she could figure out what happened, the sensors jerked again and another arm snaked directly toward her.

She dispersed her bubble and planted her feet firmly on the ground, concentrating on a spot several feet in front of her. As the arm rapidly approached, she expanded a force bubble vertically between it and the ground. It deflected the arm upward, but not quite enough. She felt a metal clamp close around her upraised wrist, and she was pulled violently into the air. Fresh pain shot through her already sore shoulder. She clenched her teeth against the pain and concentrated on fading out once more. The robot's sensor array moved in a rapid semi-random search pattern and she breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't thermal, like she had feared. Her thoughts flashed back to the flickering image above her that the robot had swung at a moment ago. Had she done that? It was very difficult to concentrate with the robot swinging wildly around and the sounds of combat coming at her from every angle, but she did her best to imagine an image of herself directly in front of the robot.

She was rewarded with a flickering effigy right where she'd pictured it, and the robot immediately released her and brought two arms to bear on the spot. She lost her concentration when she hit the ground. The pain in her knees was a nice complement to the ache in her shoulder. The hologram disappeared and she reappeared. The robot found her again in almost no time. This time she was ready for the attack and her force bubble held. The snake like arms pummeled impotently against her shield as she carefully regained her feet. She spared some concentration for a quick look around. Her dad had managed to rip one of the claws off of the robot in front of him and was trading blows with it. Her mom and Dash were still nowhere to be seen. She spotted an electrical distribution panel about thirty feet away from her and imagined an in image of herself moving toward it. This time the image was steadier and one of the flexible arms tracked it, stabbing at it ineffectually. When it reached the panel she stopped it and the robot pounced, putting two of its arms through the image and the electrical distribution panel behind it. Electricity coursed through the tank-like thing and it flopped around like a dying fish, emitting blazing showers of sparks and small explosions. Violet headed for her dad.

As she approached him she realized why he was having such a hard time with the robot. Jack-Jack was hiding behind the big man, obviously scared and not sure what to do. Bob was hampered by not being able to maneuver and his worry about letting the boy get hurt. Even unable to move around, her dad was holding his own pretty good. She concentrated and an image of her dad appeared about ten feet to his left. The robot's sensors flicked back and forth between the two images of her dad and it hesitated for a split second. That was all Bob needed. He moved underneath the upraised claw and delivered a disabling blow to the robot's tread mechanism. Violet let the hologram disappear and put a small force bubble around Jack. "I've got him, dad!" she called out. "Finish off the robot!" She let herself become visible so Jack could see here and beckoned him to come to her.

The blow came from her right side without warning and left her breathless on the ground. She looked up at Dash, and then over at the crater where she had just been standing and tried to force out a "thanks" as another tank towered over them. This one was equipped with a crane and wrecking ball. Violet got her breath back and rolled out of the way as the ball fell out of the sky and created another crater where she had just been. She grabbed Dash's arm and dragged him toward Jack.

"How many of these crazy robots are there?" she gasped out, as the three of them took shelter behind a pile of rubble.

"Five, I think," Dash wheezed back, standing up to take a look around.

Violet grabbed his collar and pulled him down. "How can you be out of breath? How long were you fighting these things before you called me? Why is Jack-Jack here and where's Mom? You _**think **_there's five?"

"Geez, Vi." He rolled his eyes. "Give a guy a chance, 'kay?"

An explosion and a shout of: "HAH! TAKE THAT!" reached them from the other side of their sheltering debris followed almost immediately by a loud thump and an"OOF!"

"Whatever!" Violet grabbed Dash and pulled him close enough that their noses were touching. "First, I need to know if mom is OK. Second, you need to get Jack somewhere safe. Third, you need to come back here and help. Got it?" She punctuated each point with a little shake.

She must have really got to him because Dash's eyes were as big as saucers as he tried to answer all her questions in one breath, "Mom's-in-Chicago-that's-why-Jack's-here-and-we-thought-there-was-only-one-robot-that's-why-we-didn't-call-you-but-there's-a lot-more-and-Jack-freaked-out-and-I've-been-trying-to-keep-the-other-robots-off-dad's-back-but—"

"STOP!" Vi shouted, cutting him off. Dash jumped a little at her shout but he shut-up and reached for Jack. She put a hand on each of their shoulders. "Jack, you be light, Dash, you be fast."

"M'kay, Vi'let." "You got it, sis."

Violet blanked herself and popped up to look for her dad.

Without his youngest son to worry about, Bob was making up for lost opportunities. He had torn the wrecking ball from the crane robot and was using it like a flail against the other two robots. He had them spaced so that he could alternate blows between the two of them without moving his feet. He had a nice rhythm going, but he didn't see the third one coming up behind him. It might not have its wrecking ball but it was picking up speed to ram him. She created a force bubble underneath the front section and expanded it rapidly. The tank flipped up onto its back with a loud crash and Bob turned around.

"Thanks, sweetie."

"You got it, Dad." She looked around warily. "Is that all of them?"

"I think so," he grunted as he went over to disable the upended tank with a massive blow to its underbelly.

Violet scanned the area and couldn't see any new threats. Her mind raced, going over the brief but intense battle. _Did I really_…? She concentrated briefly and a shimmering holographic image of Chi's face appeared in the air in front of her. She let it fade and looked over at a piece of broken concrete. _If I can make things appear, I wonder if I can_… She concentrated again but the block was unaffected. _Hmm_… She reached out and laid a hand on the block. It shimmered and disappeared. _Oh, yeah_. It popped back into view when she removed her hand.

"Violet, did I just see you make that rock disappear?"

"That was nothing, Dad," she laughed. "Watch this!"

* * *

Chi woke to the scent of freshly cooked bacon. It made her happy on two levels. First, she was going to be able to eat bacon soon. And, while that was enough to make anyone happy, it also meant that Violet was home. She glanced out the window and saw the rising sun. She tried to remember what time it had been when she got home, mid-morning at least, possibly noon. Had she slept all day and night? Violet hadn't been home when she got back from The Agency. There'd been a mess in the kitchen; the girl had obviously left in a hurry. Something one of her security men said on the way home percolated up from the back of her mind; something about giant killer robots destroying the cannery. That's probably where Vi had been. Why she wouldn't have been worried about her being gone. She'd been so tired. She remembered being very angry at her body guard who had insisted she eat something after her shower. A bagel. She didn't remember going to bed.

Chi made her way into the bathroom. Hydraulic pressure dictated a slight delay in her quest to find out if the aromatic promise of bacon would actually be fulfilled. Her robe was hanging near the shower and as she reached for it, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. _Oh, God_! She stood there for a moment torn between the desire to make herself presentable and her desire to eat bacon. She obviously hadn't dried her hair before climbing in bed and it was a tangled mess. The bags under her eyes were huge and her cheeks were sunken into her face. How much weight could a person lose in two days? Her stomach voted for eating bacon over making presentable loudly and quite clearly. Trying to pull her fingers through the snarled mass of her hair, she headed off to the kitchen to follow the promise of bacon.

"Perfect timing" Violet said as she walked into the kitchen. "I was just about to come wake you up."

"How long was I out?"

"More than eighteen hours." Violet slid the plate of eggs, toast and bacon across the table to her and poured her a cup of coffee. "You must be famished. Uncle Rick said you worked two days straight through without sleeping or eating, as far as he could tell."

Chi paused with the fork about halfway to her mouth. "About that, Vi, I have to tell you—"

"What you have to do right now is eat."

"But—"

"Eat."

"…"

"_Eat_!"

"Yes, Mommy," she grumbled, but took a bite before Violet could yell at her again.

Halfway through her second plate, she slowed down enough to take a breath and a sip of coffee. She glanced up at Violet but the girl seemed absorbed in a crossword puzzle.

"Vi?"

"Hmm?"

"Did Dicker tell you what we were working on?"

Violet waved one hand dismissively, "Something about Syndrome and the records from when you were on the island with him." She cocked her head and looked up at the ceiling. "He was actually pretty excited," Violet grimaced and shrugged a shoulder, "well as excited as he ever gets anyway." She paused to fill in another crossword clue before looking back at Chi. "He _did_ say that he was a lot closer to knowing exactly what happened to you."

Chi's food felt like a rock in her stomach. Her mouth went dry. Violet was sitting across from her acting like this was all good news. Didn't she know? Hadn't she been paying attention? Didn't she know what kind of monster she was eating breakfast with? She didn't know. And when she found out… Chi panicked. Violet had to go before she found out.

"You have to go." She recognized her own voice, but it was coming from far away.

"What?"

"You have to go." It was her voice and she didn't really want to say it, but it was true.

"I don't have to go anywhere, Chi." Violet stood, a concerned expression on her face. "You could probably use some more sl—"

"YOU HAVE TO GO!" Violet's arms were around her. She tried to push her away, but it was like pushing a wall. She gave up and sobbed, "I'm a horrible person."

"No you aren't."

"Yes I am! You don't know what I've done! You don't know I'm—"

"I know what was done to you."

"What I did." She strained backward trying to break free.

"I know what you did." Violet held her shoulders in an iron grip refusing to let her get too far away.

Chi opened her eyes and gazed into Violet's. There was no hesitation in them, no hedging; only love and concern.

"Oh, Vi…" All Chi had to do was relax slightly and their lips met, softly at first, but with a growing urgency.

It felt so wonderful that she didn't want it to stop, but her guilt wouldn't leave her alone. "No…" she whispered, pulling away slightly.

"Chi…?" Violet's voice came from far away.

"I want to but…" Tears streamed down her face. "I've done so much. I've hurt so many people." She sobbed and tried to pull away but Violet held her firmly. "I'm not worth it, Vi. How can you love me?" She stopped trying to pull free and buried her face in Violet's shoulder. "I want you… I want to be with you… but I'm… I… don't deserve this. I don't deserve you."

Violet rocked her gently from side to side. "What happened to you is just that, Chi. It's what happened _to_ you and you certainly didn't deserve that. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve to be loved." Violet's hand stroked her hair. "Never think you don't deserve to be loved, Chi, because I love you." Violet's fingers brushed her cheek softly. "I know all about your past. What's been done to you and, yes, what you've done," she kissed Chi tenderly on the forehead, "and, Chi…" Violet clutched the trembling blonde even tighter. "I love you." Violet's whispered assurance poured into her and covered her like a soft blanket.

"But…?"

Violet's mouth covered hers in a soft kiss. "Let me love you, Chi."

Chi surrendered herself to Violet's embrace and the promise it held and, for the first time, she believed.

Violet ended their tender kiss and cupped Chi's cheek with her hand. "You're crying." She whispered.

"I'm happy." Chi whispered in return, and no more words were necessary.

* * *

Joe Bartel had no idea what he was going to say. He put off the inevitable by ducking into the break room for a cup of coffee. Despite the director's insistence and explanations, he didn't understand how the McKeen family posed a serious threat to The Agency's mission. He'd spent eleven hours with them on a trans-Atlantic flight. If they were aware of what was going on, they were masters of deception. For that matter, how could a middle-aged couple and their crazy daughter pose a threat to anyone? Supposedly, the girl had been hypnotized and indoctrinated by Buddy Pine during the 'Syndrome Incident.' But that incident had happened nearly five years ago. Why would it take until now to affect her?

The idea of Dicker working with Mirage to bring back Syndrome made even less sense. The evidence the director had shown him all pointed to it but where was the motivation? Why would he do it? The Agency was Dicker's whole life. Hell, in many ways, Dicker was The Agency. There was hard evidence like the video of Dicker sneaking Mirage into a restricted records room and the worm programs introduced into the MAR system at the same time the ChiMera hardware upgrades went on-line last year, but where was the soft evidence? Where was the motive? Where was the emotion? Only psychopaths did things without a recognizable motive. Dicker was a lot of things; psychopath was not among them. The director had implied that Mirage seduced Dicker but Joe couldn't see it. There had to be something else going on.

He poured his untouched coffee into the sink and filled the cup again. If the girl was such a threat why move her? She wasn't in the secure wing anymore. She wasn't in the hospital wing either. Joe looked down at his coffee and knew he was just procrastinating. He might be confused about what was going on and who was responsible but his duty and his orders were crystal clear. He couldn't put it off any longer. He had to go arrest Dicker.

* * *

In a nondescript warehouse near the marina, Syndrome wandered through the debris of the killer robots in a seemingly random fashion, occasionally stopping to ask the attending agent a question.

"What happened to them?"

"Mr. Incredible destroyed them."

The name raised some interesting feelings but they were put aside; right now satisfying curiosity was more important than anything else. A particular circuit board caught Syndrome's attention.

"This looks like an adaptive programming reallocation module."

"Yeah, whatever. I'm just a grunt."

The concept was very interesting. The robots would have been able to carry out their tasks under hundreds of different conditions. Of course they wouldn't have been really independent; they would have been, in effect, carrying out variations on a theme. Not like… there was a memory there, but it was elusive and curiosity about the robots won out again. With a couple of tweaks, the circuitry could support true adaptive learning. With that kind of flexibility and learning potential, the robot could make its programmer equal to anyone or anything. Mr. Incredible and the interesting feelingscame to mind once more.

"Are there any tools in here?"

"Right over there."

* * *

_Next Time: The Puppet Master_

___**Author's Note: **__This chapter ran quite long and I considered breaking it into two parts, but I didn't. I'd like to thank my beta readers _(King in Yellow, audi katia, mewpainappuru, otherrealmwriter _and_ kittyore9)_ for their help in making sure that it flowed well despite the length and for keeping me pointed in the right direction. _


	12. Dealer's Choice

_**Author:**__ A Markov  
__**Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
__**Chapter: **__12__/17__**  
Summary: **__________S______equel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier.__**  
Rating:**__ PG-13__**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.__**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

**Chapter 12: Dealer's Choice**

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the penthouse apartment. Violet's eyes snapped open and she glanced around quickly. She'd dozed off again. Chi was still curled against her, her breathing regular and deep. If she didn't wake the blonde soon, she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Thinking on it, Violet wasn't so sure about that. Chi had slept eighteen hours yesterday, then nodded off again after a light breakfast. She'd had a brief spurt of energy in the morning, catching up with her office but then she'd curled up with Violet and had been dozing most of the day. Chi's fatigue meant that Violet hadn't been able to put her plan into effect but she'd managed to keep her disappointment in check. As the sun sank behind the Metroville skyline, Violet thought it over and decided that Chi had probably rested enough for what she had in mind.

Cautiously, and as slowly as she could, Violet began to extricate herself from the bed. She really didn't want Chi to wake up before she was ready. She had to pause every time Chi moved or changed her breathing pattern and getting out of bed took her nearly ten minutes. Finally, Violet slid off the bed, and made her way silently out of the bedroom and down the hall to the guest bath. After a quick, but thorough, shower, she brushed her teeth and slipped on a pair of light blue cotton panties and simple singlet. She had considered wearing something frilly or lacy but ultimately decided that this moment was going to be about her and Chi and not about what the editors of the Victoria's Secret ads thought was sexy. Her heart was beating in her chest like a drum. Taking a deep breath, she stopped in front of the mirror and looked herself in the eyes. Was she ready for this?

She closed her eyes and thought about what she was planning. Her mouth was dry, her hands were trembling just a little, there were butterflies in her stomach and she could feel the stirrings of something else a little further down. Oh, wow! She wasn't just ready; she was READY. She was all worked-up and wondering why she was spending this much time wondering about it. Chi probably wouldn't mind if she ran down the hall and jumped into the bed with a rebel yell but that wasn't The Plan. She forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths and let them out slowly. She was going to stick to The Plan. As plans went, it was simple: This evening, her girlfriend would wake-up to the feeling of someone making love to her. The Plan probably didn't deserve to be capitalized, but it was her first big plan, so she guessed that made it special.

Chi had initiated and made love to her a few times since they'd come back from San Diego but she'd always been shy about reciprocating. She'd made excuses to herself about being inexperienced and not knowing if she could make the older woman feel as good as she made her feel. But the time for that was past. Chi needed her, needed to know that Violet was committed to her physically as well as emotionally. She wanted Chi to know it too and the idea of giving herself to her lover, of being the aggressor and making love to Chi the way Chi had made love to her was getting her excited on a whole new level. Before she headed back to the bedroom, she applied a couple of drops of Chi's favorite perfume. One more deep breath and it was time.

She forced herself to walk slowly back to Chi instead of running. At the door, she paused for a couple more deep breaths and to sneak a peek into the room. Chi was curled up on her left side, just as she had been when Violet sneaked out. For a minute, Violet considered waiting until Chi woke up but shook her head. She wanted Chi to know that this was completely her choice, her desire without any prompting or expectations. She thought back to the first night that she and Chi had shared the apartment and the disastrous morning that followed and steeled herself. The pain of rejection in the blonde's eyes still haunted her. It was time to erase that mistake and let Chi know that she was holding nothing back. She was Chi's and Chi was hers.

Violet took another deep breath, slipped into the room and slowly, ever so slowly, slid onto the bed behind Chi. Controlling her breathing and concentrating on moving very slowly so as not to wake her, Violet moved into position on the outside of the spoon. She slid her left arm under the blonde's neck and contoured her body to fit as closely to Chi's as possible as she gently wrapped her arms around her. Chi murmured something Violet didn't catch and snuggled into her embrace before calming again. Violet took it as a good sign. She was keenly aware of her nipples pressed into Chi's back. Goosebumps of anticipation raised the fine hairs all over her body. She moistened her lips and inhaled Chi's scent. The heat of the blonde's body entered Violet through her breasts and spread through her belly into her groin. Unable to wait any longer, Violet leaned in to taste Chi's neck right where it met her shoulder. Her left arm encircled Chi's chest and tried to pull her even closer. Her right arm slid forward over Chi's waist and she pressed her hand lightly into the blonde's stomach before slowly starting downward.

Chi stirred.

Violet's lips moved up Chi's neck to her ear and her right hand reached its goal.

"Vi..?"

Chi clutched her left arm. Her legs parted slightly and she pushed her hips forward into Violet's right hand. "Oh, _Vi_!"

* * *

Joe Bartel tried to match the stoic facial expression of the man facing him across the ancient desk in the cramped office, but knew it was a losing proposition from the beginning. Dicker was famous for his unflappability. After a few minutes of awkward silence, Joe stopped trying to out calm the man and just started wishing for a response. Any response would do. Joe dropped his eyes and glanced around the small office. Dicker had been a part of The Agency since before Joe had been born. He tried to imagine what The Agency would be like without its most senior agent and came up blank.

He'd been mildly surprised to find Dicker calmly sitting in his office. The old man had to know what was going on, why had he stuck around? Dicker hadn't even seemed surprised when Joe showed up and quietly informed him of his situation. He'd just sat there, looking back at him with that famous deadpan expression, making Joe more nervous by the second. After what seemed like an eternity, Dicker gave a little shrug and nodded. Joe watched uncomfortably, still unsure about what was going to happen next, as the old man straightened some papers on his desk, and picked up a small picture frame. He regarded the photo silently for a minute then turned it around so that Joe could see it.

In the photo, Mr. Incredible was shaking hands with a former president and they were both mugging for the camera. Slightly behind them, his face barely visible between their shoulders, a young Rick Dicker stood gazing on impassively.

"I've always done my job, Joe, and I've done a lot of good." Dicker's voice was resigned, almost a sigh. "I guess it had to end sometime."

Joe struggled to find his voice. "It's not… You could…" He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. The words bubbled up inside of him and came out in a rush. "It doesn't make any sense to me, sir. But the evidence all points to…" he trailed off with a shrug, unable and unwilling to say it out loud.

"I'm sure it does, Joe." Dicker came out from behind the desk. "The strange thing about the facts is that sometimes they aren't true." He reached up and gave the younger man a light clout on the shoulder. "And sometimes, the truth isn't factual." They stood facing each other for a minute before Dicker turned away and moved to the door. "Maybe Mark Twain had it right; 'Lies, damn lies and statistics.' Funny thing is; a man who dies for a lie is just as dead as a man who dies for a truth."

"Sir, I…"

Dicker nodded and gave him another clout on the shoulder. "You're a good kid, Joe. You're following orders and your brain is working, I can see it from here."

"Sir, I…"

Dicker raised his hand to cut off the agent's words. When Bartel opened his mouth to speak again, Dicker frowned and shook his head. "Do your job, Joe. Do your job."

Bartel took a deep breath and gestured for the door. "After you, sir."

Dicker smiled and opened the door.

* * *

Syndrome checked the soldered connections under the magnifier before plugging the com cable into the port on the side of the modified card. A few strokes of the keyboard and the simulation started. For nearly ten minutes, data streamed across the monitor at a speed that no ordinary human could keep up with. Suddenly the scroll stopped and a blinking cursor appeared in the lower left corner. Syndrome nodded and input a few more keystrokes. The principle was sound but the hardware available was too limiting. It was time to build a real computer.

* * *

The director turned away from the observation window and beckoned Dr. Simmons over. "How's our patient doing?"

Simmons consulted his PDA, "Within expected parameters, sir."

"Has she complained about being stuck here?"

"She hasn't really spoken much at all, other than to ask about tools and the history of the objects we've provided for her."

"No ranting about Mr. Incredible? No muttering about world domination?"

"No, sir, she seems content to focus on her projects."

"Her projects?" The director frowned. "What about _our_ projects?"

Simmons tried to find somewhere to look that wasn't at the director. "Well, they've been presented, but they haven't really engaged her… sir."

The director turned back to the observation window and watched the red-head for a few minutes in silence. "So… Do we have any clue what she's doing?"

"Ah, the tech guys are trying to keep up." Simmons jumped at the chance to have the director's attention focused elsewhere, "You'd have to ask them how well they're doing."

The director waved dismissively. "Sorry, Doc. I've got more important things to worry about right now. I'll read their reports later." He reached out to tap the doctor's PDA with his index finger. "However, I do need you to stay on top of her mental condition and inform me immediately if she starts deteriorating."

Simmons glanced down at his hand and over at the console quickly. He licked his lips and tilted his head slightly.

"What?" The director demanded.

"Well, there have been some anomalies…"

"What kind of anomalies, Doctor?"

"It's hard to define, sir."

"Look, Doc," the director huffed, "something is either anomalous, or it's not anomalous. How hard is that to define?"

"Well, sir, I've never had a patient like this before, so…"

The director dropped his head into his hand and massaged his temple for a moment. "You've got her code phrase handy?"

Simmons held up his PDA, "right here, sir." He glanced around nervously, "I'm really not comfortable with all this, sir. I don't have much confidence in the post-hypnotic suggestibility of subjects in general and this subject is out of the ordinary in so many ways…"

The director pursed his lips in disapproval and shook his head. "OK, Doc, let me put it this way. If she starts acting crazy, gas the room and call me; _immediately_!" With that, the director strode from the room muttering about soft sciences and the soft headed people who practiced them.

Simmons looked out at the cavernous white room full of state of the art machine shop, seemingly endless rows of servers, myriad stainless steel workbenches covered with partially dismantled killer-robots. Along one wall, shelves of electronic devices ranging from hand-held gaming systems to missile guidance computers reached from floor to ceiling. In the middle of it all, the new focus of his research: a red-headed, college-aged girl with the personality of a dead psychotic genius imprinted in her brain, who had momentarily taken a break from building god-only knows-what, in this top-secret government facility so she could set up what looked like a tea party for a Me-pad and a Tinder. Currently she had one in each hand and was dancing happily in a small circle while making them kiss.

Simmons glared at the director's retreating back, "Could you define crazy?" he grumbled.

* * *

Chi collapsed back onto the bed too weak to do more than gasp for air and tremble. For a brief moment, she worried that this was Violet's way of saying goodbye but she quickly quashed the thought and focused on the fact that Violet was finally and completely her lover. Whatever lingering doubts had been in the back of her mind had been chased away by Violet's actions today. Chi looked down at her lover. She liked the sound of that and said it once more in her mind; _her lover_. She smiled. Her lover's head rested on her stomach. Her lover's right arm was trapped under her sweaty body. The fingers of her lover's left hand traced light patterns on her hip and thigh. After she caught her breath, Chi shifted slightly to free Violet's arm and pulled, ineffectually at her.

"Hmmm?" Violet kept her vocalization deep in her throat and the vibrations tickled Chi's hip and stomach.

Chi shivered again and raised her head slightly to glance down at Violet. "Bring your lips up here, Vi. I'm too tired to come get 'em."

Violet grinned and slowly slid downward. Chi grabbed two handfuls of her hair and whispered, "Please, Vi, I want your arms around me again."

Violet gave a playful pout and changed directions. She molded herself to Chi's left side and wrapped her arms and legs around her. "I did good?" Violet's voice was light and teasing but a slight quaver betrayed her insecurity.

Chi wondered how she could have ever doubted that Violet was committed to her. "You did real good."

"You're not just saying that?" Violet sat up a little. "I know I don't know what to do…"

Chi reached up and gently pulled Violet down to her. She rested the girl's head on her shoulder and began stroking her hair. "You made me feel wonderful, Vi, and when I catch my breath, I'm going to do the same for you."

Violet's left hand stroked Chi's shoulder and neck, occasionally tracing lightly down the blonde's ribcage to her stomach. "Chi…?"

"Mmmm?"

"I want this afternoon to be about you." Violet said hesitantly. "I want you to know I love you."

Goosebumps climbed her arm and her heart soared. She tightened her arm around Violet's shoulder, "Vi, love isn't about sex." Chi bent her neck awkwardly and kissed the top of Violet's head.

"I know that." Violet propped herself up on her elbow, so she could look into the blonde's eyes. "But I want to give you… and you don't have to, you know," she looked down, blushing.

"What if I want to?"

Violet worried her lower lip for a moment. "This is about how much I love you and if you… um… I don't want you to… I just want it to be about you."

Chi pulled her lover back down to her and wrapped her arms tightly around the dark-haired girl. "I understand, Vi," she whispered. "Thank you."

* * *

Bartel made his way back to his cubicle slowly, trying to wrap his mind around the idea that Agent Dicker had somehow gone rogue. It was beyond his ability. He loosened his tie and sat down at his desk, looking around aimlessly. Trying to find a task to focus on, he absent-mindedly smoothed his jacket and noticed something in the breast pocket. He reached in, pulled out a yellow sticky note. The handwriting was cramped: _S:\Department Safety Team\Ergonomic Regulations\Quality Information Systems Database\Statistical Archive_. Joe couldn't think of anything he was less interested in at the moment than archived statistics about ergonomic regulations and dropped it into the trashcan. It had barely left his fingers when he recognized the handwriting as Dicker's and a couple of things that had been bothering him on a subconscious level popped into the front of his mind.

_Do your job_.

Dicker had been very specific and, for Dicker, quite adamant about it. Well, he was following orders, wasn't he? But was he doing his job? On the face of it, The Agency existed to coordinate official law enforcement with the talents and actions of the Supers. Underneath that they acted as a shield, a check on the possibility that a Super would abuse their powers and become a menace.

_I've always done my job, Joe_

The remark about following orders had been a dig. Dicker was telling him that doing his job wasn't the same as following orders. He glanced down at the sticky note in his hand with the network address on it. Dicker didn't use computers. He didn't even have a computer terminal in his office. He was world famous for not using computers. He didn't touch people either, but he'd clouted Joe on the arm twice, probably so he wouldn't notice when the old man was slipping a sticky note into his pocket; a sticky note with a network address. Joe closed his eyes and concentrated. Dicker was suddenly a rogue agent who touched people, smiled and slipped file paths into the pockets of fellow agents? Joe shook his head to clear it. It was complete nonsense.

At the end of the day, his job was to protect people; _all_ people. Supers weren't the only ones who could abuse their power.

Joe pulled the note out of the trash can and reached for his mouse.

* * *

Violet kissed Chi lightly on the shoulder and momentarily tightened her arms around the blonde. "I get first crack at the bathroom," she said as she sat up.

Chi pouted, playfully, "I thought you said this afternoon was all about me."

"It was," Violet left a trail of kisses down Chi's arm to the palm of her hand, "but it's evening now." She grasped the hand firmly and took the index finger into her mouth, sucking it gently as she slowly pulled it out of her mouth. Chi shivered. "Besides, while you're cleaning up, _I'll_ be making you dinner." Violet grinned mischievously, "I figured you'd want me to wash up first, but…?"

Chi giggled and tried to pull Violet back into bed with her. Violet pressed her lips to the inside of Chi's wrist, a combination of sucking and nibbling sent more shivers through the blonde's body. She reached up with her left hand to push the hair out of Chi's face. She held onto Chi's left hand and kept her lips pressed against it. Concern darkened her features for a few seconds. "You really over-extended yourself at The Agency. All you've done the past two days is sleep so you're caught up on that, but you need to eat too."

"I had—"

"…half a bagel two pieces of bacon and an egg. That is hardly enough to bring you back up to full strength." Violet clutched Chi's hand to her chest, brought her free hand to her forehead and affected a Southern drawl, "Why, when I think of how you are all tuckered out from a little kissing this afternoon, it gives me such a fright."

Chi silently conceded the point but thinking about it brought a big smile to her face. "That was more than 'a little kissing,' Vi."

"Well, after a healthy dinner, full of restorative nutrients, you might be ready for a little more kissing." Violet wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, then blushed a deep shade of red.

* * *

From his vantage point on the deserted top floor of Metroville's tallest parking structure, the director watched the rays of the setting sun glint off the ChiMera Industries building. He heard the rumble of the approaching sedan's big V-8, but continued to stare out at the skyline. He was disappointed but not surprised when he heard two doors opening and the sound of multiple footsteps approaching. "Which part of 'secret' is it that you don't understand, General?"

The sound of footsteps stopped and was replaced by the sounds of murmuring and shuffling feet. The director turned to glare at the tall man in uniform and his cronies. The general gestured and the two lieutenants with him retreated to the utilitarian limousine behind them while he continued forward and joined the director at the handrail. The director was a big man but the general loomed over him. "I'm sorry about the attention you're getting, Jake." The general's voice was deep as you would expect from such a tall man.

The director snorted, "I'm sure you are, but I'm the one sacrificing one of my best men, Bill. Have you figured out how the sleeper program got triggered? We tracked it to the Stavenger base but all your goddamn protocols are interfering with my investigation. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to cover your ass!"

"We've got some really sensitive programs going on. You turn over the wrong rock and both our asses are in a sling before you can turn around."

"Don't give me that shit!" The director threw his hands in the air. "I'm trying to keep these freaks from destroying the world and you're getting in my way because POTUS is getting his winky waxed."

The general frowned and turned away.

"You still don't think we're necessary." The director shook his head and brought his hand down on the railing in front of him. "You still think that you and your boys can handle the Supers and there's no need for us. The Agency is an anachronistic organization manned by dinosaurs." The director waved dismissively. "Tell me, General, how many men do you think it would take to bring down Mr. Incredible?"

"That's not the point."

"Tell that to the Koreans."

The general turned and waved a finger at the director. "The Koreans were underfunded and under-trained. He wouldn't stand a chance against a modern military."

"There were 135,000 of them, Bill. He went through them like a hot knife through butter." The director's eyes bored into the general. "He was restrained by his own ethics and the US Government's objectives. He was trying not to kill anyone and doing his best to keep civilian infrastructure intact and he subdued a nation with an army of 135,000 in less than two weeks." The director turned back to the panoramic view, "What it would be like to face him without those restraints in place?"

"We wouldn't have to face him alone, the other Supers—"

The director's laugh cut him off. "Can you imagine the devastation that would result from that kind of battle? Oh, I forgot. You guys don't encourage imagination."

"I know what a battlefield looks like, and I'm sick and tired of catering to your silly games because you're trying to appease someone who just happens to be really strong."

"He's not just a really strong man, General. He's a man with all the frailties of the human mind and spirit and all the power of a god. What you can't seem to understand is that The Agency is the only thing standing between you and your gods. And your incompetence is destabilizing the only means we have to control them."

"You've always had a huge ego, Jake. Now it sounds like you can add 'Messiah Complex' to it."

"Bottom line, Bill: Your people fucked up and activated the 'Synthdrome Initiative' before it was ready or necessary. Now I've got the goddamned DOD and a Congressional Ethics Committee breathing down my neck while I'm doing my best to make sure that the most powerful Super of the next generation doesn't decide to set herself up as the 'Supreme Goddess of Earth' but I'm having a little difficulty with that because she just found out we've been screwing with her girlfriend's brain." He turned toward the general and began advancing on him slowly. "And do you know how she found out about it? That's right. It's because your people fucked up." The director grimaced. "There'll be a summit meeting next month in Qatar, and if you haven't done everything in your power, and I do mean _everything_, to help me straighten this out, my man won't be the only sacrificial lamb offered up."

The general laughed. "Are you threatening me, Director?"

"You're goddamn right I'm threatening you." The director poked the tall man in the chest. "And, since you seem to be having a hard time understanding me, let me make this perfectly clear. If this all goes south, if we lose control of a single one of the Supers, you will be sacrificed. And, when I say that you will be sacrificed, I'm not talking about your career."

"Listen, Jake, you can't just—"

"Yes. I can." The director's voice was quiet but there was nothing soft about it. "There's always another general and there's always another director. The operation I'm trying to coordinate is crucial and if it doesn't come off exactly right, the body count is going to be very high. Bill, please find out what happened, so we can make damn sure it doesn't happen again, and get the DOD off my back so I can concentrate on what's important."

The general stood with his fists and jaw clenched tightly for a minute before nodding abruptly and striding forcefully back to the waiting car.

The director sighed and looked out over the city once more, trying to ignore the screeching tires and the smell of burning rubber as the general worked out some of his frustrations. His phone beeped at him as he headed back toward his car reminding him that he had a meeting with The Speaker of the House in half an hour. He hated meeting with the speaker, the guy was such a drama queen, but he needed his approval for the operation.

* * *

Chi stared at the holograph of her head rotating slowly in the air above the table. It was uncanny, though she suspected that Violet was idealizing the image, leaving out all the little flaws she knew were there. She glanced over at Violet. The dark-haired girl's eyes were narrowed in concentration. "That's amazing, Vi." Chi reached out, "can I touch it?" she asked.

"It's just light."

Her fingers passed through the image. She wasn't sure if she imagined the tingling or not as she pulled her hand back.

"Wait, let me try something." Violet chewed on her lower lip and brought her hands up in front of her, fingers curled slightly. She slowly spread her hands out. The bust stopped rotating and shimmered for a second. "O.K. Try it now."

She reached out again and this time her fingers met a solid surface. She traced the nose and eyebrow ridges with the tips of her fingers.

"What does it feel like?" Violet grunted through her clenched jaw.

"Very smooth, like glass, almost, but it doesn't quite match with the image."

Violet relaxed her hands and let out the breath she'd been holding. The image disappeared with a twinkle. "I'll have to work on that," she grinned. Her eyes darted around and she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. "What'd you think?"

"I think you left out all the little flaws and made me way prettier than I actually am."

Violet blushed and changed the subject. "Since I made that doughnut last week, I've been experimenting with making different shapes with my force projection."

Chi furrowed her brow. "What about San Diego?"

"What about San Diego?"

"At Sea World, you shaped it like a dolphin."

"I did?"

"Yeah, when you were swimming, you were using your force thingy to make yourself into a dolphin and..."

"Cool!" Violet broke into a wide grin, "Oh! That reminds me. You know how I lost my clothes 'cause I couldn't make them invisible? Well, I can now. Check it out!"

Violet's grin faded when she saw Chi's cheeks turn bright red. "What?" She glanced down at her exposed chest and let out a little scream, her cheeks darkening too as her singlet abruptly reappeared.

"Not that I mind seeing them, Vi, but the dinner table is… oh, you should have seen your face!" Chi couldn't hold it in anymore and broke into giggles.

Violet leaned forward and thumped her head on the table. Chi slid out of her chair and interposed her hand between Violet's head and the table to cushion it. She gathered Violet in her arms and, still giggling, began stroking her head. Violet pulled away and grinned at her mischievously. "What?"

Violet wiggled her eyebrows and leered at her chest. Chi's eyes followed.

"HEY!"

* * *

The director settled his bulk into the sturdy chair and studied the man staring at him impassively. "How are they treating you, Rick?"

Dicker shrugged, "I'm still alive, so… better than I expected, Director."

"You comfortable?"

"As prison cells go, it's very nice."

"You know why you're here?"

"I have a pretty good idea."

"Is there anything I can—"

"Do you really think this is a good idea?"

The director raised his eyebrows at the uncharacteristic interruption and let out a sigh. "She needs to be reminded of how much she needs us. I think it's the only thing that has a chance to work."

"Have you tried talking to her?"

Jacobs snorted in amusement.

"How many?"

"It's not important, Rick."

"It's the only thing that is important, Jake."

"You're wrong, Rick, and, deep down, you know it. There are six billion of us. A few less won't make any difference in the long run."

"A few?"

The director shrugged.

Dicker looked into the director's eyes. "Am I one of the few?"

The director met his gaze evenly but said nothing.

Dicker turned away.

"I know people, Rick. This is the best way."

Dicker remained unresponsive. Eventually, the director heaved himself out of the chair and headed out. At the door he paused. "This is why you're not the director, Rick. You aren't willing to make the necessary sacrifices." He considered slamming the door behind him but he knew the gesture would be wasted. Rick was a sentimental fool. The director pulled up Mirage's code phrase on his PDA and dialed his phone.

* * *

Joe Bartel closed the file and leaned back in his chair. He had to decide if he was going to follow orders or do his job. He didn't see how he could do both. He sat in quiet contemplation for nearly half an hour. Finally, he nodded to himself and reached for the phone.

* * *

Violet lay across the bed with an exaggerated pout on her face. "Let me try again!"

"No!"

"Oh, come on," Violet wheedled, "I think I know what I did wrong."

"Not gonna happen." Chi insisted. "I have just instituted a strict policy about how often I should see myself without any skin and I have decided that once every twenty-five years is often enough." She shivered as she sat on the bed next to Violet. "Maybe too often, I don't think I'll ever get that image out of my head." She shied away as Violet sat up and reached for her.

"O.K, no more invisibility experiments," Violet promised.

"No more experimenting?"

Violet grinned and traced a finger up Chi's arm and over her shoulder. She leaned in and bit Chi lightly on the neck, "I didn't say _that_!" She ran her hand up the side of Chi's face and entangled her fingers into the blonde hair. Gently she pulled Chi's head back and started tracing kisses along her neck.

The phone rang.

* * *

_Next Time: Bite the Bullet and Play the Cards You're Dealt._

_**Author's note: **__Once again, I'd like to thank my beta readers _(audi katia_, _King in Yellow, mewpainappuru, otherrealmwriter _and_ kittyore9_)__ for their awesome feedback and helping me make sure that everything that needed to be clear was actually clear. At this point, if you don't know what's going on, it's because I don't want you to know yet. __  
_


	13. Second Best Hand

_**Author:**__ A Markov  
__**Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
__**Chapter: **__13__/17__**  
Summary:**____________S______equel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier.__**  
**__**Rating:**__ PG-13__**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.__**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 13: Second Best Hand**

Chi stared down at the phone in her hand, lost in the past, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Violet's voice brought her back to the present.

"Who was that?"

Chi looked up, still somewhat confused. "What?"

Violet moved close to her, concern obvious in her expression. "On the phone… Just now, you answered the phone and then zoned out. Who was it?"

It was a good question. Chi struggled to find an explanation that wouldn't make her sound crazy. After several false starts, she realized her silence was causing Violet's concern to intensify and just answered the girl's last question. "It was… Jacobs." Her answer didn't seem to decrease Violet's concern, so she added: "My… my old handler."

Violet wasn't any less concerned, but she did seem more confused. "From The Agency?" At Chi's nod, she continued, "What did he want?"

"He uh…" Again, the explanation was probably going to make her sound crazy. _He woke up my inner child and gave her chores_ was probably going to freak Violet out. She noticed that her delayed response was agitating Violet again. She just blurted out the simplest explanation she could think of. "He activated me."

"You're being called in to work at The Agency?" Violet spoke slowly.

Chi sighed. She knew she wasn't making sense. "Not exactly." She tried, once more, to come up with an explanation that didn't make her sound crazy. _There's a little girl inside my head who works for Jacobs but it's OK because she's actually me and she's not insane or evil at all… really._ How would Violet react to that? "I have to call him up and make reports about you. When you leave." Maybe Violet would leave it at that.

"What?" It wasn't a scream… quite.

Chi closed her eyes and whispered, "When you leave, I have to call him and tell him where you're going and then… I have to…" She was still a little hazy on how she knew this but it was important. "forget… I called."

"WHAT?" This time it was very much like a scream.

Chi placed her hand on Violet's arm, trying to be reassuring. "He said something on the phone. Something in Latin… I think…"

Violet pulled her arm away and leaned back. "And now you're hypnotized or something?"

"No, it's like there's someone else in here with me... completely separate… asleep… I don't think I'm supposed to know about it…" Chi could see Violet withdrawing. She realized how her last sentence must have sounded. "Not 'it'" she hastily corrected. "_her_."

Violet took a step back. "I'm really scared, Chi. If there's something inside you making you do stuff and forget about it…?"

Chi could feel control slipping away. This was the reaction she feared. She had to convince Violet that she wasn't in danger and what had been awakened wasn't some faceless agency drone, but a real person based on her own memories. Unfortunately, the only thing that came out of her mouth was "Not some_thing_, some_one_."

"That's even scarier!" Violet shouted, moving further away. "A completely different person? Inside you?" Violet's eyes brimmed with tears, her voice was pleading. "You can see how that would freak me out, right?"

Violet's fear was tearing her up, Chi tried to sound as calm and sane as she possibly could. "You don't have to be afraid of her."

Violet looked at her in complete disbelief. "You're saying that there's a person inside you… that you didn't know about… who works for Director Jacobs… and is going to take over your mind and body… and then use you to tell him everything I say and do… and I don't have to be afraid of that?" Violet transitioned from fear to anger somewhere in the sentence. "Why the hell not?"

"Because she's me."

"What?"

"The 'someone else' is me."

"You"

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

The question momentarily made Chi angry but she understood Violet's concern and fear. She tried to reassure the dark haired girl. "I can see her... _me_. It's definitely me. I'm sleeping."

Violet regarded her through narrowed eyes. "How can you tell that it's you and not some Agency construct?"

"I can see her now." Chi chose her words carefully, struggling to find some way to explain what was going on in a way that would reassure Violet. Perhaps if she let her know that it wasn't a new phenomenon, "She's always been here but I never saw her because I never looked there before."

"Freaking out now."

Or perhaps not. Chi tried another tactic. "It's a memory." She kicked herself for depersonalizing again. "_She's_ a memory. She's _my_ memory."

"They screwed with your memory before, Chi."

Chi mentally kicked herself again, of course Violet would be sensitive about that. "No. This is a real memory and she… _I'm_ asleep."

"Still freaking out." Violet insisted, but she relaxed marginally.

Chi knew she had to just tell Violet everything. No matter how crazy it sounded. "Vi, when I lived with the sisters, there was a spot in the cellar where I used to go and hide. A place where I kept some of my favorite things... a scarf… it was soft and colorful, I was sure it was made of silk. I had a bracelet with a bunch of plastic charms… my favorite book; 'El Principe Oso,' I guess it was a kind of nest; a place where I could dream. I can see her… me… sleeping there. I just finished reading the book and now I'm curled up dreaming of the Bear Prince." Except she wasn't; she was dreaming of something else…

"Chi, none of this is helping." A note of hysteria crept into Violet's voice. "Are you saying there's a version of you, a memory, that's reading a book and napping in the basement of the orphanage where you grew up?"

The blonde considered this. "In a way, yes." Violet was still worried but she wasn't shrinking away anymore. Chi took her hand and drew her nearer. Violet didn't resist. "There was a little spot in the cellar. I used to sneak down there when I was supposed to be doing my chores. It was always cool and smelled spicy. I had to climb up two of the water casks-they seemed so big-and slither around a duct-it was flexible so I could move it enough to get around it… I would curl up on a knitted blanket that Thea gave me and rest my head on that soft scarf and read that book." Chi paused for a moment lost in the memory and Violet relaxed against her side. She put an arm around the younger woman and rocked her gently from side to side. "I thought El Principe Oso was the most romantic story I ever heard. The woodcutter's most beautiful daughter agreed to marry the bear so her father could continue to cut wood from the bear's forest to support her mother and sisters." Chi used her free hand to stroke Violet's hair. "But the bear was actually an enchanted prince who gets taken away from her and she goes on a quest to break the enchantment. She was beautiful and she was the hero! She saved the Bear Prince…" Chi noticed Violet was starting to tense up again. "I guess the story's not really important." Chi tilted Violet's face up so she could look into her eyes. "The important thing is that it's me. A little part of me is still curled up in that little niche in the cellar where I used to hide from my chores, rest my head on that soft scarf and dream of saving the Bear Prince."

"I don't understand."

"There's no faceless secret sleeper agent inside me, Vi. When you leave, that little girl is supposed to wake up and call Jacobs and tell him where you're going and then I'm supposed to forget all about it."

"How is it that you know about it and how is this not scary?" Violet's voice cracked.

"I'm not sure, exactly, but there's something new in my life, something different from the last time she was awakened."

"What?"

Chi grinned. "You, silly."

"Me?"

"Yes. You. She likes you, Violet. It's like the phone call woke her up and she looked around my memories and she found you. She found you in my memories and now she's curled up on that knitted blanket resting her head on that silk scarf and dreaming but she's not dreaming of saving the Bear Prince. She's dreaming of saving you."

Violet's brows furrowed in concentration. "So, when I leave…?"

"Her instructions are to call Jacobs and tell him where you're going."

Violet pulled away slightly. "Chi, Uncle Rick's in custody. Bartel just told me. He wants to meet…" She dropped her head into her hands. "How am I going to make this work if you have to-"

Chi's easy laugh interrupted her. "That's what I'm trying to explain, Vi. You don't have anything to fear. Jacobs miscalculated! The little girl, who he's counting on, is me. More importantly," Chi took Violet's face between her hands and looked directly into her eyes, "she's the part of me that sneaks off to the cellar and does what she wants instead of doing her chores. And she likes you way more than she likes him."

Violet's brow furrowed momentarily as she considered Chi's words. Slowly her expression morphed from confusion into comprehension and then into relieved amusement.

* * *

Violet glanced around the crowded coffee shop. She picked out Joe Bartel easily. He looked exactly as Chi had described him. She didn't see anyone else who was obviously an agent but that didn't mean he was alone. She made her way over to him and sat across from him with her back to the door.

"Where's Ms. Mera?"

Violet ignored the question while she moved the chrome napkin holder so she could see the reflection of the door in it. She glanced at the clock behind the counter and looked around once more to see if she could identify which customers were really agents.

"Ms. Parr, I—"

"Shh!" She held up a finger. Violet didn't know if she was just being paranoid or if they really were out to get her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this was a set-up. "I don't like this place," she hissed.

"Ms. Parr, I—"

"How many agents?" she interrupted.

"What?"

"How many agents do you have in here and why do you want to know where Chi is?"

"Ms. Parr, I assure you…"

"I'm sure you do." She waved off his response. "I'll just find out for myself." Violet glared into his eyes unrelentingly as she sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. Dense smoke began pouring from under a door to a storage closet at the rear of the serving area and a concerned murmur ran through the small shop. The murmurs turned to cries of panic a moment later when the door burst into flames. "Stay there!" Violet commanded as Bartel started to get to his feet. The frantic crowd flowed around them toward the doors. In minutes, the entire shop was empty of people. There was an abrupt change in the air pressure and all the exterior doors slammed shut. The smoke flowed outward, collecting in the glass windows of the shop, hiding them from the outside.

Bartel looked over at the closet door. It was completely whole and unsigned. "That was you? An illusion?"

Violet nodded. "I figured if there were any other agents with you, they'd still be here when the smoke cleared."

Comprehension dawned on Bartel and he gave her a look of grudging respect. "Of course, the fire department will be here soon…" he cautioned.

"So, talk fast."

"Where's Mirage?"

"None of your damn business," she growled.

If Bartel was surprised by the answer or the tone, he didn't let it show. "You understand that this is about her as much as it is about you?"

"I understand that The Agency has a secret program to build its own army of supers in case we go rogue. I understand that Chi and Syndrome were used to eliminate the supers that The Agency thought were most likely to pose a threat. I understand that Director Jacobs coordinated the whole thing," Violet flexed her hands and pinned Bartel's arms and legs with force bands, "and I understand that you're Jacobs' lap dog." She stood, suddenly. Her chair skidded away from her and crashed against the door behind her. A flick of her head and the table between them flew to one side while Bartel was lifted from his chair and pushed violently back against the wall. "I also understand the concept of taking care of loose ends and if you think I'm going to hand Chi over to you so you can shove her into a deep hole somewhere and forget about her, you've got another thing coming."

Bartel struggled against the invisible bonds holding his arms and legs. "Ms. Parr, I assure you that I'm well aware of your feelings about Mirage. As far as I know, there's no plan to incarcerate her and I'm sure that you would move heaven and earth to rectify the situation if The Agency was to move against her. I'm here to talk to you about Agent Dicker. The Director is making him the fall guy for this whole business with your friend, Kari, and he's being detained in The Agency's high security wing."

"Kari? Kari McKeen?" Violet took a step back and released Bartel's bonds with a gesture. He stumbled slightly as he regained his feet and his balance. "Kari's in Norway." Violet continued, "Skippy Loop-de-loop sent her away after… Are you saying that was Jacobs?"

In the distance, they could hear sirens.

"Ms. Parr, Violet…" Bartel looked nervous, he licked his lips. "This is a completely different issue. Your friend, Kari, is back in the U.S. and she thinks she's Syndrome."

The sirens were getting closer.

Violet's eyes narrowed as she searched the agents face for some clue that he was trying to play her.

An air-horn sounded just outside.

"How many agents?"

"What?"

Violet clenched her fist and rolled her eyes in frustration. "How many agents are out there?" she growled.

"I'm alone."

The shouts of the emergency crew could be heard from the street outside.

"Sure you are." Violet glanced at the clock once more; it was time to go. She closed the distance between them quickly and looked Bartel straight in the eye. "Do you trust me?"

"Y-yes…"

"Grab my arm and don't let go."

* * *

Dr. Simmons rubbed his temples and tried to remember the last time his head didn't hurt. He rummaged in his drawer for a pain-killer and tried to remember if he'd taken Tylenol or Aspirin last time. He closed his eyes and let out the breath he'd been holding. _"Screw it!"_ He thought, and reached for the Vicoden. His headache had been pretty much constant since Dicker had brought him onto the 'Synthdrome' case. He briefly considered filing a complaint with HR against the senior agent for exposing him to what any competent jury would agree was a hazardous situation. At the very least, he could get a few weeks off when the situation was finally resolved. Though, as far as he could tell, there could be no satisfactory resolution to the situation. He looked over his notes once more. The girl's transformation was startling and frightening beyond anything he'd ever conceived of. The completeness of her indoctrination and the total loss of anything resembling her own personality was unimaginable. He'd spent nearly ten minutes looking through the thesaurus trying to find a word to express how bad it was and had been unable to find one. It was, quite literally, the end of humanity.

A muffled crashing sound reached him from somewhere else in the building, probably the girl's lab. She'd been building all kinds of destructive things. They'd barely been able to keep up with her and prevent anything from getting too out of hand. He turned back to his work station to finish his recommendation that the program be ended immediately and all records expunged but another crash, this one much closer, caused him to jump a little in his seat. He reread the recommendation through and sent it off, knowing in his heart that the people who would read his recommendation were too short-sighted to follow it. There was no other course of action available to him. He would have to sabotage the program himself.

Simmons gathered up his notes and started shredding everything he could find that related to the program. He deleted all his files and notes from his computer, then realized that probably wasn't good enough, and started a hard drive reformat. He made a mental list of everyone involved in the project at the lab. There were nine people who knew the scope, but he didn't think any of them could recreate the program from scratch. If he destroyed his notes, the computer files and then fled the country, maybe they wouldn't be able to duplicate the process. The girl would have to die, of course. She was, for all practical purposes, the inventor of the process.

Simmons took a moment to mourn privately for the tragedy that someone so brilliant was also so flawed. If only that power and intellect could have been nurtured and focused for the good of all humanity… He stopped when he realized that he was on the same mental path as those who had initiated this whole thing in the first place. The cold hard truth was that humanity wasn't ready for this and they might never be. He glanced at the clock as he gathered up the bags of shredded documents. Jacobs would be back soon. He had less than an hour to burn the remains of the documents and figure out how to kill the girl.

As he made his way down the stair well to the incinerator in the basement, the concrete wall next to him exploded outward. Chunks of flying concrete and rebar tore through his body at nearly supersonic speeds. The smell of smoke filled his nostrils and as his consciousness faded, he hoped the fire would destroy what was left of his notes on the project.

Seventy four agents and contractors were at work in the Agency building known only as "The Lab." Of those seventy four, only nine knew the full story of what was going on. It wasn't any help to them when "Syndrome" got tired of playing games and loosed the killer robots; first on them and then on the unsuspecting population of Metroville. When the flames died down and the smoke cleared, they were just as dead as the people who had no idea.

* * *

Joe struggled against his bonds and tried to get through to the young woman pinning him to the wall.

"Kari? Kari McKeen?" she asked in surprise. The invisible bonds holding him suddenly went away and he nearly fell over. The young woman turned away from him and scratched her head. "She's in Norway. Skippy Loop-de-loop sent her away after… Are you saying that was Jacobs too?"

In the distance, he could hear sirens.

"Ms. Parr, Violet…" Joe chose his words carefully. Invisigirl obviously thought he was trying to bring her and Mirage into custody. The fire department would be inside any moment and his best chance to put a stop to the 'Synthdrome' project would be gone. He took a deep breath and remembered his negotiation class motto: _When all else fails, use the truth_. "This is a completely different issue. Your friend, Kari, is back in the U.S. and she thinks she's Syndrome."

The sirens were getting closer.

The suspicion on the girl's face was disheartening.

An air-horn sounded just outside.

"How many agents?" She hissed at him.

"What?" Was she still accusing him of bringing back-up? Who could he trust?

Her entire body tensed and her eyes flashed with rage. "How many agents are out there?" she growled.

"I'm alone." He tried to reassure her, but her paranoia was infectious. Maybe he _had_ been followed.

The shouts of the emergency crew could be heard from the street outside.

"Sure you are." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. Suddenly, she was right in his face. "Do you trust me?"

"Y-yes…"

"Grab my arm. Don't let go, and _don't panic_!"

Nonplussed, he wrapped his right hand around her left bicep, struck by how small she was. With his hand wrapped around her upper arm, his thumb was actually overlapping his finger up to the first knuckle. He was wondering how someone so small could manage to be so intimidating when the world went away. _Holy Shit!_ Joe bit off a scream and clutched the tiny arm in his hand reflexively. He could feel the floor under his feet and the girl's arm in his hand. He wasn't dead, just blind. He gasped reflexively and a scream started to form in his gut.

"_Don't panic_," she repeated, "it's just a side effect." Her voice was a hiss.

Joe managed to suppress the scream and tried to find something to focus on.

Invisigirl provided a welcome distraction. "Take two side-steps to your left." She muttered and pushed gently at him. He felt a large body pass through where he had just been standing. "The door is directly in front of you." Her calm murmur penetrated his fear and kept the panic at bay. "On my mark, walk forward, normally." He almost started forward immediately, but a gentle pressure on his chest held him back.

"Now." The soft command was accompanied by a change in the pressure and he found himself moving forward. "Four more steps then turn right. Three… Two… One… turn." A small tug let him know when he'd gone far enough. He kept walking, concentrating on picking his feet up and placing them carefully. Panic over his blindness threatened to overwhelm him, only Invisigirl's calm voice and his own years of training kept the paralyzing fear at bay. The sounds of people rushing around him formed a picture in his mind. He visualized the barriers, the crowds the big, red trucks. Visualizing what was going on was another way to occupy his mind and keep the fear under control. He felt the pavement under his feet. It was solid and reassuring. The smell of water evaporating, ripe garbage… they must be passing the alley… That was a good 35 feet away from the coffee shop, they were moving fast.

"Four more steps then turn to the right. Three… Two…"

_Did she think he couldn't count?_

"One… turn."

The smell of the dumpster nearly made him gag. His hand tensed around her arm, involuntarily, and she let out a small hiss. He was suddenly aware of the death grip he had on her arm. He must be crushing the bones together. He started to relax his grip…

"Don't let go yet," she murmured, "we're still where they could see us."

Realization drove the panic away just as she pulled him to a stop.

"Ready?" she asked.

He nodded then realized she probably couldn't see that so he tried to say 'yes' but before he could form the word, the world popped back into view. The sights of a Metroville alley filled his eyes. There was a dumpster. It was overfilled and rotting food waste from several restaurants spilled out. Something the color of phlegm oozed down the side and underneath it a rat carcass writhed with the activity of thousands of maggots feeding on it. He'd never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Nausea and fear, heightened by dizziness brought on by the unexpected return of his sight churned in his stomach and he added a little more color to the ground in the alley. He recovered fairly quickly and turned to take out some of his frustrations on the young super who had just put him through that. She was rubbing her arm where his fingers had dug into it and flexing the fingers of her left hand.

Joe could see the bruise already forming on her arm. His anger faded quickly. "Sorry about that." He muttered.

She shrugged it off, "comes with the territory. C'mon, we've got a train to catch."

"Train?"

"Cab, train, bus, limo..." She shrugged again. "Same thing."

He followed her through the alley. "Ms. Parr…" he cleared his throat, "How… uh… why… uh…" Joe swallowed and tried to quiet his roiling gut.

"Basically, I just made it so your body wouldn't reflect any light. Unfortunately, I don't know enough about anatomy to exclude your optic nerves from the process. No light reflected to your optic nerves, you're blind."

"That's not how the eye works, Ms. Parr."

Invisigirl rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. "Well, if I knew how a god-damned eye worked, I could probably make you invisible without making you blind." She snarled, as if that fact was painfully obvious and Joe was just being stupid on purpose. "If it'll make you feel any better, you handled it a lot better than my dad did."

While he tried to wrap his mind around Mr. Incredible's possible reactions to suddenly finding himself blind, they reached the end of the alley at the same time a tan Town Car pulled up. Violet opened the door and slid in making room for him. As the car pulled away she turned to him, "now, tell me why Kari thinks she's Syndrome and what that has to do with Uncle Rick being locked up." Her tone was light and conversational but there was steel in her eyes.

* * *

Bob Parr turned off the television and shouted as he ran toward the front of the house, "Helen! Dash! Giant robots destroying downtown! Let's go!"

"Again?"

* * *

_Next Time: Everybody dies. _


	14. Best Laid Plans

_**Author:**__ A Markov  
__**Title: **__Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
__**Chapter: **__14__/17__  
__**Summary:**____________S______equel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier.__**  
**__**Rating:**__ PG-13__**  
Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender.__**  
Disclaimer:**__ The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything._

* * *

**Chapter 14: Best Laid Plans**

Mr. Incredible dodged a knife-edged bicycle wheel, an electrified ironing board and two dozen exploding bobble-headed dogs that shot out from the tank-like robot's seemingly endless supply of launchers. He'd already jammed at least a dozen pieces of broken concrete and the front bumper of a minivan into the various ports that had opened in the sides of the thing, but it seemed like for every opening he blocked, two more formed somewhere else and each one threw out something even more bizarre than the last. At first it had been simple: cannon balls, lances, nets and an occasional exploding shell. As the fight dragged on, the missiles started getting more random and he was beginning to wonder where it was getting its ammunition from. Unfortunately, dodging the last of the exploding bobble-heads brought him directly into the path of the whirling wrecking ball. He didn't have any time to berate himself for getting distracted by the oddness of the attacks before being caught square in the chest and driven toward a nearby building. He hit the concrete wall hard enough to go completely through it. The impact didn't hurt, really, but getting sandwiched between a speeding half-ton metal ball and a reinforced concrete wall did knock the wind out of him. Laying in the rubble with his ears ringing, Mr. Incredible decided to take a moment to catch his breath and contemplate what kind of twisted mind looked at a dog with a bouncing head and thought "I should stuff that full of explosives and throw it at someone." It turned out to be a bad idea when the rest of the building collapsed on top of him.

"DAD!" Speedy turned sharply and headed for the pile of rubble that used to be a small office building.

Elastigirl used her flexible arms as a slingshot to hurl heavy pieces of debris at the robot. Her chosen method of engagement kept her out of the path of the heavy steel ball whirling around the thing but it was so well armored that her shots were mostly ineffective as they kept bouncing off. At least it was keeping the thing from destroying any more buildings or knocking her husband through walls. "Speedy, go get your brother. I've got an idea of how we can beat this thing!"

"But what about dad…?"

"If your father could be killed by a little building falling on him, he wouldn't have survived our first argument."

Speedy hesitated for a fraction of a second then headed directly for the robot with a high-pitched trilling yell. Helen shook her head and wondered for the umpteenth time why she'd ever thought watching reruns of Xena with her son was a good idea. At the last moment, Speedy changed direction slightly and missed the robot by mere inches. The shockwave from his nearly supersonic passing rocked the thing back and the resulting turbulence prevented it from stabilizing itself for long enough that Helen was able to flank it. She began flinging debris at its treads, but it lowered itself until its protective plating covered the vulnerable point. She sighed. With the thing crouched like that, she couldn't do any damage but, on the plus side, it couldn't move. If she could just keep the pressure on until Bob clawed his way out of the rubble or Dash got back with Jack-Jack, they might have a shot at stopping it before anyone got killed.

Bob wriggled around in the wreckage, trying to orient himself. The dust was clogging his nose and he couldn't see anything at all. As he moved around, the rubble above him shifted and he caught a glimpse of daylight. Coiling himself tightly together, he heaved upward toward the light, exploding from the rubble. Glancing around, he did a quick assessment of their situation. His wife was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse with the tank-like robot. She was keeping its attention focused on her by weaving in and out of the piles of debris that now littered the area where their battle was being played out and heaving a steady stream of missiles at its treads.

The robot noticed his presence and a port opened up on the side facing him. Several footballs shot out of it. He ducked under the first two and, in a fit of sudden inspiration, turned and caught the third one as gently as he could. A fourth one exploded against his back and the force nearly knocked him off his feet. He recovered his balance, dropped his shoulder and rushed toward the robot. He ducked under the whirling wrecking ball and powered through a mass of confetti that blocked his vision and stung everywhere it touched him. The robot wasn't moving so Bob just kept pumping his knees, trying to build up as much momentum as possible. He slammed into the side of the tank-like behemoth, rocking it back and lifting the side nearest him a foot or so off the ground. He tossed the football under the thing before it fell back down and grinned as the muffled explosion lifted it a few inches. The wrecking ball caught him in the side and flung him through the air. He hit the ground a few feet away from his wife.

"Nice try, honey." She managed to grunt out between shots.

* * *

Director Jacobs swore and slammed his right fist into the palm of his left hand. If she wasn't fighting with her family, his plan was in serious jeopardy. "Are you absolutely sure that she's not there? She _can_ become invisible, you know."

The aide backed away as far as the cramped communications room would allow. "There is no evidence of her presence invisible or otherwise, sir. The team fights differently when she's there, so—"

"I'm well aware of the foibles of this particular group, kid." The director snarled. He paced back and forth, forcing everyone else in the crowded room to flatten themselves against a wall or nearby console or risk getting stepped on. His head snapped up. "Get on the horn to the holding facility. If she's not fighting with her family, she's probably trying to get to Dicker." If he could get to Dicker before she did, maybe he could still get her pointed in the right direction. It was an outside shot but Rick knew the score and he'd play ball.

A trembling technician held out a phone for him.

"You got 'em already? That was fast."

"N-no, sir. Th-they called us."

"And?"

"Dicker's gone, sir. He just disappeared. One moment in his room, the next gone."

"How long ago?"

"Half an hour, sir."

"And they're just calling now?" Jacobs practically tore the phone from the trembling technician's hand.

* * *

Rick Dicker climbed awkwardly into the back of a van that he could feel but not see. Violet's gentle assistance and calm, murmured instructions were no substitute for sight. He heard the doors shut and his vision returned abruptly. He suppressed his nausea as best he could and looked around; he was in the cargo area of an empty panel van. The only windows were up front in the driver's section. The cargo area was unfinished and the only other thing there was a large leather satchel. He settled onto the wheel well with his back against the driver's side wall. Swallowing again to try and calm his stomach, he glanced over at his rescuer. She was near the front of the van, holding her girlfriend's elbows gently and murmuring something he couldn't make out. From the tone, it sounded like she was reassuring the blonde. The two young women embraced briefly before Violet pulled away and gently pushed Chi toward the front. As the blonde slipped into the driver's seat, Violet settled down on the floor next to him.

Glancing back and forth between them he asked, "You brought your girlfriend on a prison break?"

Violet laughed. "Yeah, I didn't want to take a chance on us getting separated during this thing." She ran a hand through her hair and Rick glimpsed a moment of worry but the smile was back in place before he could even be sure he saw it. "We're not going back."

"Hm." The van pulled away from the curb smoothly.

Violet looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "That's all you've got? I tell you we're making a break for it and all you can do is grunt?"

Rick considered this for a few moments before answering in a non-committal tone, "What did you expect?"

Violet snorted. "I thought you'd say 'good luck' or 'stay away from Tahiti' or even 'it'll never work, you kids are doomed.' You know, some kind of human reaction that lets me know you've heard and understand."

He frowned slightly and asked, "You're bringing me with you?"

"You're doing whatever you want." Violet reached into the satchel and pulled out a large manila envelope. "Inside is a passport, birth certificate and a bunch of ID papers. There's also some cash and the number of a Swiss account. Chi's contacts can get you anywhere in North America in under six hours, anywhere in the world in just over fifteen. After that, you're on your own." She glanced toward the front of the van. "Chi and I will get you started on your way then disappear into the ether." She shrugged. "What happens after that is up to you."

He looked down at the envelope. "Suppose I don't want to go anywhere?"

"It's your funeral."

Dicker opened the envelope and looked at the name. "Really?" he asked. "What makes you think I want to be Frank Abagnale jr.?"

"For one thing, it's funny."

He began looking through the papers, an entire life's story in his hands, documented properly and looking as though it had seen as many years as he had. "So I'm going to be an infamous confidence man. What about you?"

"I've always wanted to be a pop star."

"How did we get from 'disappear into the ether' to 'become a pop star?'"

Violet grinned like a lunatic, "There are lots of ways to disappear."

Dicker refused to rise to the bait. "Where will you go? California?"

Violet let out an amused snort. "Which part of 'disappear into the ether' did you not understand?"

"You don't trust me?"

The grin vanished. "I don't trust anyone." Violet's eyes flick toward the front of the van.

"Not even her?"

Violet ran a hand through her hair again. "She's… I trust her but I'm worried about her. She's holding something back right now and I think… I think she's afraid of me." She turned away.

"What makes you think that?"

Violet's shoulders hunched in and she sighed. "When I look at her, I see it. I look in her eyes and I see love, I see hope and... I see fear." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Everyone's afraid of me, even my... even her." She dropped her chin to her chest.

Dicker struggled to find the right words. Failing to come up with anything, he laid a gentle hand on her arm.

She glanced down at his hand then raised her eyes to look at him. He could see the tears filling her eyes. "Why?" she pleaded, "What's wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, young lady." His expression softened. It wasn't a smile but it was as close as he could come.

"Then why?" Violet's voice took on a strident tone. "Why is everyone afraid of me?"

"We've talked about this before…"

"Yeah, I know." She bit off a sob. "Am I ever going to find someone who… understands?

Rick gave her arm a little pat and pointed toward the front of the van. "For what it's worth, kid, I don't think she's afraid of you. I think she's afraid of _losing_ you."

Violet's nose wrinkled in confusion but before she could ask for clarification, something slammed into the side of the van. Tires screeching. Glass shattering. Metal rending. Dicker felt the side of the van slam into his back and he was flung across the floor into the sliding door. Another impact sent him spinning toward the front. He collided with the passenger's seat and felt the bones in his arm crack. Pain spiked through his body. The world turned sideways, then upside down. He was flailing in the air, his broken arm sending sharp waves of pain through his nervous system, then the roof of the van slammed into him and he felt consciousness slipping away. Violet was screaming for Chi. The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline overwhelmed him.

* * *

"Agent Bartel, Grayson from Homeland is on line two. You're going to want to take this."

Joe cursed under his breath. He was supposed to be briefing the Director on his encounter with Invisigirl. He didn't have time to help some pencil pushing newbie from another department navigate the bureaucracy. "Tell him I just stepped out and put him through to Ken down in records."

"He said to tell you that someone you know had to go to the hospital."

Joe stopped short. "What were his exact words?"

The aide bit his lower lip and thought for a moment. "I'm pretty sure it was, 'An old friend is in the hospital.'"

"Shit!" Bartel swore. "I'll take it in my office." He spun on his heel and headed briskly back to his desk. Making sure his office door was shut and locked, he pulled a fist-sized device out of the top drawer of his desk and attached it to the back of his phone. He picked up the receiver and waited for the clicks and beeps to stop before he spoke. "The line is secure, Bartel here."

The voice on the other end was devoid of any regional accent. "Two hours ago, we received credible intelligence that a pocket bomb crossed into the US from Canada and that there is a probability that it will be deployed in the Metroville area. It is most likely one of three Russian devices that went missing from Chechnya sometime in the early nineties during the First Chechen War."

Joe swallowed nervously. "What do you need from us?"

"We've tracked a terrorist cell working out of Croatia called 'Bozji Kocke.' We believe they are going to try to destroy the Metroville Municiple Power Distribution facility."

"That plant provides power for the entire Tri-State area. No telling what kind of chaos..."

"We're well aware of that, Agent Bartel. In addition to disrupting power, there is the probability of flooding and contamination of the region's water supply. That's why I'm calling you. We need to coordinate with your office. Our best guess is that the device is already deployed at the site and that it may well be nuclear."

"When you say 'may well...'"

"One of the three missing devices was nuclear. Homeland needs The Incredibles. Particularly, we need Invisigirl's talents, Mr. Bartel."

Joe dropped into his chair. "There might be a problem with that."

* * *

Bob rolled to his feet and dodged behind a Buick. "Where's Speedy?"

Helen continued to sling debris at the partially disabled tank-bot. "I sent him for Jack."

Mr. Incredible promptly forgot about staying in cover and stood abruptly. "WHAT?" A one-eighth scale model of the Liberty Bell caught him on the shoulder and sent him spinning to the ground.

"Bob!"

"I'm O.K. sweetie." He gasped, sprinting for a nearby pile of rubble. "Who loaded this thing and why do you want Jack here?"

Helen ducked under a flying shopping cart and flowed into hiding with her husband. "I think it's manufacturing ammunition as it goes, trying to find something that'll work against us. Judging from what's been thrown at us so far, it's using the online Wall Mart catalogue as a source of information."

"And you want Jack to come and pick out his Christmas present?"

Helen laughed, "No, silly. I want him to recreate his favorite scene from that British science show you guys watch."

Bob's arms shot out with unnatural speed and grabbed Helen's shoulders. Before she could react, he gave her a huge kiss on the mouth. "You're brilliant, honey. I really don't tell you that often enough. You're amazing!" There was a skidding noise behind them.

"Seriously? A giant robot is destroying the city and you guys are making out?"

"I couldn't help myself." Bob grinned. "Your mom is super smart and smart chicks are hot!"

Speedy rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

Bob held out his arms to his youngest child. "C'mere, Jack." He picked the boy up and peered over the rubble at their adversary. "See that tank?"

Jack nodded.

"You remember watching Brainiac last weekend?"

Jack-Jack's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "I c'n thermite?"

Bob grinned ear-to-ear. "You can thermite."

Six seconds later the tank-bot shuddered to a halt, a child-sized, smoldering hole completely through it.

Dash jumped up and punched his fist into the air, "Run through it again!" he shouted. And for the next few minutes the sounds of disintegrating metal and machinery were punctuated by peels of childish laughter.

* * *

"We found Dicker and the girl, sir."

Jacobs looked up from his desk. "And…?"

"She's being taken to the cooler."

"What about Dicker?"

"Uh… Special Agent Dicker is dead, sir; the result of blood loss from multiple gunshot wounds."

"What the hell happened?" Jacobs' massive frame shot up from his desk. His chair skittered away behind him. "Who the fuck authorized the retrieval team to shoot? I want the squad leader, the platoon leader and the fucking commanding officer in my office five minutes ago!"

"It wasn't our guys, sir! Our retrieval team followed up on a 9-1-1 call and found them in an abandoned warehouse in the Marina." The agent swallowed and looked a little green. "It wasn't pretty, sir."

"Death never is, kid."

"Sir, I think you should look at the pictures of the scene…" He held out a folder to the director.

Jacobs frowned at the young agent's pallor before glancing down at the first photo. He felt the bile rise in his throat and swallowed several times to calm his stomach. "What did that?"

The reporting agent cleared his throat. "From what we can tell, sir, _she_ did."

"You're telling me, Invisigirl brutally dismembered half a dozen men?" Jacobs shock and disbelief were evident in his voice. "How?" He looked up at his aide. "Why?"

"As to the 'how,' preliminary analysis shows the men were heated up from the inside until they exploded or were penetrated and dismembered with beams of coherent light. We can't speak to the 'why' yet."

"Do we know who these men are?" He glanced down at the photo again, "...were."

"Mercenary group out of D.C; we're tracking the money right now to find out who hired them."

Jacobs studied the photos for a few more minutes. The attackers weren't from the Agency. He could use that to get the girl back on track and regain control of the situation. He'd have to go through the seer, but he could still salvage the entire operation. "I want eyes on Mirage."

"Sir?"

Jacobs let out a sigh. "Mirage! I want to know where she is."

The agent consulted his PDA. "She was injured at the scene. Right now, she's on her way to Metroville Memorial, sir."

Dicker dead, the seer injured, this was rapidly shaping up to be a very bad day. "What's her condition?"

"Sir?"

Jacobs' hand slammed onto the desk. "Goddamnit!" He yelled, "You get on the goddamned phone and find out her condition! Send an Agency medical team with a fully equipped triage truck to the hospital and tell the lead doctor that if Mirage dies, he's not going to outlive her by long."

"Sir?"

"DO IT!"

"Yessir!" The agent dived for the door.

Jacobs picked up the phone. "Get me the cooler." The next few seconds seemed like an eternity. His gaze kept dropping to the photo on the desk in front of him. The charred, dismembered bodies were very troubling. How had he missed this? The girl was completely out of his control and in less than 12 hours, all hell was going to break loose and he wasn't going to be able to contain it. He glanced at the clock. The bomb had probably already crossed the border. He needed a plan 'B' right now.

He mentally took inventory of his assets and began formulating alternatives. Best case scenario: He was able to convince the girl to play the part he'd already mapped out for her and she became the Agency's most powerful weapon. Worst case: Everyone in Metroville died and the area was uninhabitable for several half-lifes. He forced himself to look at the photo once more. She might be calm now but if her girlfriend died or the agents at the cooler set her off or… His frustration level was increasing by the second; the list of ways this could end up as the "worst case" was far too long.

The timing of everything was very suspicious. Particularly this unknown mercenary group, hired by an unknown source… Was it possible that someone was deliberately working against him? But who? And what could they gain? His thoughts were interrupted by a voice coming from the phone.

"Cooler, Manfield speaking."

"This is Director Jacobs, code omega-delta-three. A retrieval team is on its way to you with Invisigirl. It is vital that she be treated with the utmost respect and deference. She is an honored guest and no one is to engage her."

"Sir?" The word was choked out in disbelief.

"You heard me, Manfield."

"Report from the team is that she just ripped apart a bunch of mercenaries and-"

Jacobs cut him off with a curse. "Let me make this perfectly clear. No one is to approach her in any way that could possibly be construed as hostile. That little girl is the single most dangerous thing in the world right now and if I fuck this up, everyone is going to die." Jacobs reached took a deep breath and blew it out noisily. "And when I say 'everyone,' I mean _**everyone on the planet! **_If she's willing to stay there, fine; if she wants to leave, don't get in her way."

"Got it."

The Director hung up the phone and hit the intercom. "I need an emergency session. Get me the Pentagon, the White House, M-I 5, Beijing, the Kremlin, and Bono."

"Yes, sir."

"And find out where Bartel is. God help us, he might be our best chance."

* * *

_Next Time: Trial and Error_

_**Author's Note:**__ I'd like to thank _King in Yellow_ and _Luna Rei_ who helped make this happen by spending some of their free time making sure I filled in all the plot holes, dotted the I's and crossed the T's. (Spoiler alert: The mother dies and Ted ends up with Robin.)_


	15. Trial By Fire

_**Author**__: A Markov  
__**Title**__: Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
__**Chapter:**__ 15/17  
__**Summary:**____Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier._  
_**Rating:**__ PG-13  
__**Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender. The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything.  
__**Author's Note:**__ Thank you for the overwhelming response. I figured nearly everyone had forgotten about this little tale by now. Once again, I'd like to thank _King in Yellow_ and _Luna Rei_ who helped make this happen by spending some of their free time making sure I filled in all the plot holes, dotted the I's and crossed the T's. You should also thank them. After you're done reading this chapter and writing a review about how awesome I am, (you know you want to) please go check out their stuff and tell them how awesome they are. You've only got one week until the stunning conclusion of Out of Sight, Out of Mind. (Spoiler alert: Walter dies saving Jesse.)_

* * *

**Chapter 15: Trial by Fire**

APWIRE-  
DATELINE: METROVILLE

Nearly thirty thousand people ignored warnings of possible radiation exposure and gathered at the Transit Plaza Memorial Park outside the Metroville Municipal Power Distribution Center to show their respects to Metroville's fallen hero today while millions of others watched the broadcast from around the globe. The somber ceremony opened with a flyover of jets from the nearby Marine base and ended with the reveal of a simple monolith carved with the names of all those who died in the failed terrorist attack. It stands resolute and somewhat stark against the backdrop of the city's main reservoir. When asked if the plain marker was worthy of his fellow super, Speedy said: "She was never about flash or glory. I think that, wherever she is, she's happy to have everyone's sacrifice recognized. Not just her own. She would be the first to say that every name on that list is heroic. It proves you don't have to be super to be a super hero." Mr. and Mrs. Incredible also attended the ceremony but declined to comment.

* * *

On a normal night, there were no distinguishing features to set the Frank Thomas Memorial Building apart from the fourteen other buildings in the municipal complex. On this particular night, Frankie "The Pope" Bugliano marked it with his presence. He was standing on the roof, keeping an eye on his car recovery operation. He chose this building because it was close to the river and offered a decent view of both the river and the west side of the municipal complex. The view wasn't as good as the one from his old perch atop the Ollie Johnston building, but it did offer one advantage; he couldn't see the park where the transit plaza used to be.

The important thing was that he could track the progress of his crew in the fading twilight while still keeping an eye out for the barges. The operation was pretty straight forward but required a lot of coordinating. The spotters had already come through earlier in the day marking the cars that had been abandoned after running out of gas trying to find a way out of the complex. Now his fuelers were making their way through, finding the marked cars and adding just enough gas to get them to the river. Time was, you could just dump a couple gallons in the tank and not worry about it but the combination of rising gas prices and the bribes for the City Council had really cut into his 'cars for cigars' profit margin. Now his fuelers had to be careful to add just enough gas to get the car to the barge and not have any left over. The loading schedule was tight and they didn't have time to siphon the gas back out of the cars once they were on the barge. His sweeping gaze noticed an empty spot where one of his boys should be. He glanced back along the route and cussed under his breath. The new kid was either putting too much gas in the tanks or he was filling them too slowly. Either way, he was behind and losing money. The drivers were waiting for his signal to sweep in and move the cars through the basement to the dock where they could be loaded onto a barge and sent down river for export. He keyed his radio.

"Yo! Joey! Wut parta' 'quatauvagallon' do youse not unnerstan?"

"Sorry, Pope. I jus thought…"

"Youse don't think, Joey. Youse just puts a' quatauvagallon inna tank. Youse got it?"

"Yeah, Pope."

Frankie watched his nephew for a few minutes to make sure the kid was catching up then turned his attention to the river looking for the barges that would carry the recovered cars down river for processing and export. He tried to stay focused on the job but he couldn't stop himself from glancing toward the power plant.

* * *

There was nothing special about the conference room. At ten feet by twelve feet, it was a bit small for the seven foot long table that took up most of the room. The cramped feeling wasn't helped by a beat-up credenza along one wall. Jacobs helped himself to a cup of coffee from the service set out and turned to the window that dominated the opposite wall. Metroville lay spread out before him, sun setting over the river. In the waning light, he could see the barges slowly making their way down the river toward the gulf. The events of the months leading up to the incident played themselves out in his head and he wondered what kind of verdict was coming. It was true that not everything that had gone wrong was his fault, but it could be argued that his failures had magnified the detrimental results of the events. His gaze swept over the other buildings in the complex. There was a lone figure outlined in the moonlight on one of the other buildings in the complex. He briefly entertained then discarded the thought that it might be a sniper. The figure was too exposed for one thing. Besides, if he was going to be executed, they'd either make it look like an accident or do it after a public trial with him as the scapegoat. Either way, if they decided he was unfit, he was a dead man.

The door opened and his judges walked in. He knew them well, of course. They were known as "The Triplets" because they always worked together and the colonel did all the talking for the group. Some people thought they were psychic, but Jacobs knew better. They were just really in tune with each other's body language. He'd worked with them a few times. They were smart, capable and dedicated, just like him. They'd approach this calmly and do what was necessary. He still couldn't find the flaw in the logic that had led him to make the decisions he had and that was worrisome. A man in his position shouldn't be responsible for the accidental deaths of so many. It was his job to protect the general public. And while that meant that, occasionally, someone had to be sacrificed, (possibly even many someones) it was never ideal and it always meant that something had gone terribly wrong. He glanced back out at the city. Metroville was recovering. The marina and the warehouse district were being rebuilt. The transportation hub near the power-distribution center wasn't a complete write-off; the radiation levels would be back to normal in a few years. It wasn't the end of the world, but there was no denying that events had gone terribly wrong.

Jacobs took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he turned to meet his fate.

* * *

Joe Bartel finished reading the transcript of the eyewitness account and sat back to contemplate it. There were inconsistencies in the evidence; little things that just didn't add up. He had no doubt this man was telling the truth because he'd been present for some of the events that the man described. His account matched closely enough with Joe's memories that the rest of his story was probably accurate as well. But Joe couldn't shake the feeling that she had put one over on everybody.

He rubbed his eyes, turned to his computer and called up the video file…

_Anatoli Durapov looks around warily, trying to see past the bright light over the table in front of him into the shadowy corners of the interrogation room. He's a stocky man with short dark hair and several scars visible on his face and hands. He turns quickly and peers over his shoulder when a door opens and closes behind him. "Who are you?" He demands. His thick Russian accent hits the 'r' like a 'd.' _

"_I'll be asking the questions Mr. Durapov."_

"_Ha!" The Russian snorts. "Amereecan eenterrogation ees like walk een park for Russian child." He leans back in his chair and folds his hands across his stomach. _

"_You have a lot of experience being interrogated in America, Mr. Durapov?"_

"_No, but I walk een park a lot wheen I am child." His smirk widens into a grin when his interrogator stops mid gesture, obviously stunned._

"_Ah…" For a few moments, the sound of papers being shuffled around is the only sound while Anatoli's grin slowly grows into a smile. "What, exactly was the nature of your employment with Mirage?"_

"_I do not know thees 'Mirage.' I do not work for her."_

"_You may have known her as 'Chi Mera.'"_

"_Oh! Mees Mera! Yes, I drive Mees Mera's car."_

"_And what else?"_

"_And Feexing cars too. Driving and feexing cars for Chimera eendustries." the response was rote, given in a bored tone of voice._

"_Those are interesting scars, Mr. Durapov. Where did you get them?"_

"_You deedn't hear me? I feex cars. Very dangerous, feexing cars."_

"_I see." _

_Silence descends in the room. Anatoli sits back in his chair, completely at ease, staring at his interrogator with an amused expression on his face. For several minutes, he sits in silence and stares but not in a challenging or belligerent manner. Just waiting._

_The interviewer breaks first. He pulls out the chair opposite the Russian and sits down. "Tell me about last Friday."_

_For the first time, Anatoli's face betrays some emotion. Sadness clouds his cold eyes. "I don't like thees day. I don't want to talk about it."_

Bartel clicked the 'pause' icon and shut the file down. With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair and leaned back. Nearly six months had passed since that fateful, horrible day, but guilt still gnawed at him. Was it his fault she was dead? Unbidden and unwanted, the memory of the first time he saw Anatoli Durapov replayed itself in his mind...

Being in the alley with Invisigirl, the blindness, the nausea, the offhand comment about how he had handled the blindness better than her father, the sudden appearance of a chauffeured Town Car which she was clearly expecting…

_Bartel blinks rapidly trying to imagine Mr. Incredible's reaction to suddenly finding himself completely blind. Invisigirl reaches out her hand and a car pulls up, stopping with the handle of the rear door exactly at her fingertips. She opens the door and slides across the leather seat with an expectant expression on her face. It suddenly dawns on him. She's had this whole thing planned from the beginning. The meeting in the café, the illusion of the fire, the escape… and she expects him to get in the car with her. Still trying to get his bearings, he slides into the seat next to her. _

"_Now," she says in a light and conversational tone. "Tell me why Kari thinks she's Syndrome and what that has to do with Uncle Rick being locked up." _

"_Are you sure you want to discuss this here and now?" Joe glances forward and catches a glimpse of the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror. They're cold and dead; the eyes of a killer. He turns back to Invisigirl and the soothing platitudes he'd planned to give her dry up in his mouth. Her tone might be conversational but her eyes are just as cold as the driver's. He wonders if he's going to survive the ride._

* * *

APWIRE-  
DATELINE: METROVILLE

City officials have confirmed that any person attending the memorial service will be eligible for free radiation exposure testing and treatment if it is necessary. Attendees are encouraged to make an appointment at Metroville Memorial Hospital at their earliest convenience. Strict visitation protocols have been set-up at the memorial park to limit individual exposure at the site while still giving those who wish to express their condolences and respects the opportunity to do so.

* * *

The timing of the loading was very important. The barges and the cars had to arrive at the docks at the same time or someone on this end might notice a long line of cars backed up in the basement and someone on the other end might notice that the barges were coming in late. For several months after the incident at the power plant, the crew had been sluggish and out of sorts. But they were all getting used to the idea of a Metroville without Invisigirl and most of his guys were back into the old rhythm. He sighted the first barge and signaled his drivers to start the first wave. As the cars lined up and filed through the basement of the Frank Thomas Memorial Building he turned his attention to the fuelers working on the next set of cars.

Frankie let out a long string of curses and mentally kicked himself. His nephew might be great at that video game where you pretended to steal cars but he was shit at the real thing. He shook his head and spat. Every time he listened to his sister, it made his life harder. He felt guilty at the thought but he pushed it aside and keyed the radio, "Yo! Joey! Wutideyetellya?"

* * *

"Jake," the Colonel settled back in her chair and idly stirred her coffee, "as you know, our group tends to be more interested in results than in methodology." She glanced at the men seated on either side of her for confirmation and got a nod from both of them. "However, when the methodology in question includes the detonation of a nuclear device in a metropolitan area, we are forced to step in and take stock."

"No argument here." Jacobs growled. "I missed something on this one, and damn near got this city destroyed."

The panel of three exchanged glances, the Colonel cleared her throat. "We're divided about whether to tell you this or not, but since I'm running the show, I get the final say." She paused for a sip of coffee. "There's a level two empath in the next room." She worried her lower lip for a moment. "I think you should also know that we considered bringing in a level one psychic for this hearing."

Jacobs was momentarily taken aback. He leaned forward, "Any psychic who spent time in a room with the four of us would have to be…"

She glared at him. "We're well aware of the policies and consequences, Director Jacobs."

He pursed his lips and nodded. "Sorry, it just surprised me that—"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Let's start with the loss of Invisigirl." She picked up her spoon and stirred her coffee once more. "I've read your report and, while the computer simulations agree that your plan had a high percentage chance of restoring Invisigirl's confidence in the agency, it ultimately failed. We lost a super. We nearly lost an entire city. In fact, the entire operation was derailed rather thoroughly and if she hadn't..." The colonel stopped talking and took a moment to compose herself. "I am very interested in hearing, in your own words, where you think you failed."

Jacobs sighed and settled into his chair. "Colonel, my mistake was that I didn't recognize that Invisigirl was already lost to us. Had I figured it out twelve hours sooner, I could have called everything off and prevented all the chaos and bloodshed of that day."

* * *

Bartel watched the video carefully. He'd seen it at least two dozen times but he was hopeful that there were still some clues to be gained from it. On the screen, Violet coordinated a dance in the huge seawater tank. She was using light as a hypnotic to influence everyone around her including a six-ton killer whale. She swore she wasn't aware of doing it and Mirage's conversations with Dicker supported that, but it hadn't taken her long after that to figure out what she'd done and how to use it consciously. He could attest to that personally.

_He feels detached, removed from the situation. He can see the driver's eyes in the mirror and hear Invisigirl's voice. Once he starts talking, the words just spill out. He finds himself telling her everything. Jacobs' feud with Dicker, the failure of the Memory Maintenance and Recovery System, the trip to Norway, Kari's mental condition, Dicker's arrest, the files Dicker gave him on Project Cadmus, it all comes pouring out and he can't stop himself from talking. In the back of his mind, he senses that something is wrong, but it is too far away, too isolated to reach his conscious mind. He floats in a thick fog, insulated from reality._

_She asks questions. Her voice is sharp and cold, like a knife. It cuts through the fog. She's asking about things she doesn't have clearance for. He hesitates. She asks again. There's a shimmer in the corner of his eye and he answers: She's too powerful. Jacobs wants to make sure her loyalty is unwavering. He has something planned, something big. It's not about her friend, it's something else. There will be an incident that will demonstrate how much she needs the agency. Bartel doesn't know the details; only that it will happen soon._

_He's vaguely aware that the car is moving. She's arguing with someone on the phone. The driver's eyes are still boring into him. She asks more questions; he answers._

_The world comes back into focus with a roar. The car is stopped in front of the Agency. Bartel looks around in confusion._

_Invisigirl smiles at him. "This is where you get out, Agent Bartel."_

_Joe looks around trying to figure out what just happened. "But…"_

"_Now, Agent Bartel."_

_He opens the door and slides out of the car. He stands there awkwardly holding onto the door, glancing back and forth between her and the building. She slides over and gently pulls the door shut. He stares at his reflection in the darkened glass. The window rolls down. _

"_And Bartel…?" _

_He nods. It seems like the right thing to do._

"_Tell Jacobs not to bother looking. He'll never find us."_

_He shakes his head and wonders what, exactly, just happened._

Joe shook his head to clear it and focused back on the video. After watching it all the way through one more time, he opened another window. Every time he pulled this up, he convinced himself that this time he'd see something that he'd missed. This time he'd find that piece of the puzzle that proved his hope was not in vain. There were anomalies in the video, but repeated viewings had never confirmed his hopes. At this point, he wasn't sure if the inconsistencies were really there or just wishful thinking on his part. He reminded himself about how well she'd planned the meeting at the cafe. She was smart and cunning, much more so than Jacobs had given her credit for. She'd interrogated him and had probably known enough to formulate some kind of contingency plan. She could have survived. The mouse pointer hovered over the play button for a few moments before he cursed and stood abruptly. He made his way over to the cabinet against the far wall of his office. After a brief internal struggle, he opened the cabinet and filled a glass from one of the crystal decanters stored inside. He downed the drink in one gulp and poured another before heading back to his desk.

He might have to watch her die again, but he didn't have to do it sober.

* * *

"How is that possible?" The colonel frowns. "Your report says—"

"I know what the report says. It's accurate but there're some pieces of the puzzle missing. Some things just don't come across on paper." Jacobs took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "She'd already retrieved Special Agent Dicker and was well on her way to disappearing when she was attacked by the Synthadrome's agents."

"Your report shows that the product of the Synthadrome Project died when the lab was destroyed by the robots it built."

"Yes and those records are also accurate. However, prior to the destruction of the lab, the Synthadrome had already created a DNA tracking device that was keyed to Mr. Incredible and hired a mercenary group to hunt him down and kill him."

"Under your nose? In a facility controlled by you? This… Kari McKeen… thinking she was Syndrome… built a killer robot tank, _and_ a DNA tracking device _and_ hired a mercenary group?"

"She also built a remote control with a nearly omnipotent hacking algorithm, a continuous wave laser dazzler and an oven that cooks using microwaves. Additionally, she isolated two compounds that have the potential to revolutionize solid fuel manufacturing and figured out why everyone likes Justin Bieber."

"The microwave oven has been around for a while, Jake, and I'm pretty sure no one likes Justin Bieber any more."

"Yeah, well, then at least one good thing came out of this fiasco. Look, I'm not claiming that everything that came out of her head was new and innovative, just pointing out that she was very busy. We were hard pressed to keep up. A couple things were bound to slip through the cracks."

"That tank was thirty feet long. How big a crack did it slip through?"

The colonel glared at her compatriot's uncharacteristic outburst and turned back to Jacobs. "I must say, aside from the obvious security breaches and the apparent incompetence of your science team," sarcasm dripped from her voice, "I'm curious as to how she got her hands on the money to hire mercenaries."

"She stole it from us."

"Of course." She frowned and glanced down at her notes. "This DNA tracking device, if it was keyed to Mr. Incredible, how did they end up attacking the girl?"

"Same DNA, she must have been closer when they turned it on."

"And how does an attack by a mercenary group get her from 'on the run' to 'killed in the line of duty'?"

"At the time of the attack, she was with Special Agent Dicker: her handler, and Mirage: a covert agent on special assignment to monitor her. Their vehicle was rammed and a running firefight followed. The end result was that Dicker was dead, killed by the mercenaries, and the mercenaries were dead, killed by Invisigirl."

"'Killed' is putting it mildly."

Jacobs shrugged. "Stress does weird things to the mind. My guess is she didn't know she could do that until her friend and mentor was lying dead at her feet and her lover was bleeding out in her arms. We found documents in the wreckage of their van indicating that Dicker was planning to go underground. However, while we know Invisigirl and Mirage were planning to do the same, there were no documents found regarding them. They were separated at the warehouse and when Mirage disappeared, I had to find another solution to the problem."

"The problem of the suitcase nuke?"

"No, the problem of Invisigirl."

"You thought Invisigirl was a more pressing problem than an uncontrolled nuclear device in a major metropolitan area?"

Jacobs shrugged again. "With Dicker dead and Mirage badly injured, there was no way to control Invisigirl." He clenched his fists and leaned forward. "How can I make you understand? In the span of a few short weeks, she had discovered an astounding range of ways to manipulate light. Ever notice how light can have a hypnotizing affect on people? Well, so did she. And we know of at least three separate instances where she used this hypnotic effect to manipulate the people around her. She somehow came to understand, on a fundamental level, the nature of light as both a particle and a wave, and how to manipulate it as both! You commented on how she dispatched the mercenaries at the warehouse with coherent light beams." Jacobs spread his arms and leaned back. "One day she was a slightly troubled teenager, the next she was the biggest threat to humanity we had ever faced."

"How did you determine that?"

"I looked into her eyes."

The colonel considered this, "You looked into her eyes and decided that she was a threat to all humankind?"

"Yes, and since I didn't have the means to stop her, I had to convince her to stop herself."

* * *

APWIRE  
DATELINE: METROVILLE

In an unscheduled press conference, Mr. and Mrs. Incredible announced and confirmed that they would both be retiring from the public eye. "I don't know exactly what the future holds," a downcast Mr. Incredible said, "but I know that right now, we have a hole in our life and we need time for it to heal." Mrs. Incredible echoed her husband but added that Speedy would be carrying on the family tradition and would continue to protect Metroville.

* * *

Frankie sent the signal for the last barge to pull away with a partial load. He hated to do it, but that's life. Sometimes you got a full load, sometimes you don't. He collected his nephew and headed across the lawn toward home. "Youse really screwed up t'night."

"Aww, Pope, you know I…"

Frankie just shook his head. "Look, kid. I know your momma wann'd youse' t' go innna th' family business, but youse ain't cut out for it." The kid's shoulders drooped and he turned his head to hide his face. "Look, I gotta cousin in Jersey, he's gotta night club, some kinna comedy t'ing. I'll put inna word f'r ya and we'll see, huh?" The kid nodded, still hiding his face. Frankie shrugged and glanced in the direction of the transit plaza again. He couldn't see the park or the monument from here but he knew what it looked like. The image of his sister's name was engraved in his mind as well as on the monument. He sighed and thumped Joey on the shoulder. That's life. Sometimes you got a full load and sometimes you don't.

* * *

Jacobs sat in silence, staring out the window for several minutes. When he turned back to his judges, his expression was resolute but his voice had a slight quaver. "I've been in a lot of tough situations, sent a lot of young men and women to their deaths. Walked into a lot of situations that I didn't know I was going to be able to walk out of. I never expected that talking to Invisigirl was going to be one of them." He leaned forward and held the Colonel's eyes, "When, she looked at me, I could tell she had no regard for me. She was completely shut down."

"I'm not particularly fond of you; does that make me a threat to humanity?"

Jacobs let out a short bark of a laugh. "No, colonel, you misunderstand. It wasn't about me. When I looked into her eyes, there was no humanity. She was emotionally dead." He picked up his coffee and took a sip. "I tried to elicit some kind of reaction. I told her that Dicker was dead. No reaction. I told her that Mirage was dead. No reaction." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "This operation was supposed to end with her saving the world. She was supposed to stop the terrorists, save the city, impress the girl and do it all with a little help from her friends at the agency. It was supposed to bring her connection with humanity into focus, give her a reason to work with us and make her _want_ to work with us. It failed. _I_ failed" He glanced out the window and shrugged. "I let myself get distracted and the operation was compromised. So, I rolled the dice; told her about the bomb, told her what would happen to her family if it went off, reminded her that her force fields were stronger when she was inside them and sent her to die."

"She did save the city."

"I know, but that wasn't the point. We already knew she could do that. We needed her to do it as part of our team."

The three judges exchanged glances and the colonel leaned forward. "Out of curiosity, what would have happened if she had not managed to contain the blast?"

"Then a lot more people, me included, would be dead and instead of a being a mild radiation hazard, there would be a very large, very radioactive crater where the transportation plaza used to be."

"Your command center was within the blast radius."

Jacobs nodded. "I had to be close enough to trigger the device and, well... it was my mess to clean up."

The colonel exchanged glances with the other panel members before nodding. "What about the DNA tracker?"

"Severely damaged, a team has been working, unsuccessfully, to reverse engineer it since the incident."

She picked up her pen and idly tapped the table with it. "And how would you categorize the Synthadrome Project?"

"An unqualified success. Even though it was activated by mistake, we were able to seize the opportunity and gain an unprecedented amount of data about the Reeducation Initiative." He turned his hands up and shrugged. "Also, we took a girl with average intelligence and created a super genius out of her in less than a month."

"A super genius who went on to unleash a killer robot on the city."

Jacobs dismissed the charge with a wave of his hand, "We knew that was going to happen. It was just the timing that caught us off guard."

"And Invisigirl?"

Jacobs ran his fingers through his hair. "A lot of things went wrong at a critical moment. I keep going over it all from the beginning and I can't figure out what I could have done differently to change the outcome. In the end, we're better off with her dead than with her out there gunning for us."

The colonel nodded. "I think we've heard enough."

* * *

_Next Time: Unhappy ending._

_**A/N 2-** __remember, every signed review gets a response. (I would be happy to respond to unsigned reviews but there is no mechanism in place for that here at ffnet. Also, if you've disabled the PM feature, I have no way to respond to your review.)_


	16. Fallout

_**Author**__: A Markov  
__**Title**__: Out of Sight, Out of Mind  
__**Chapter:**__ 16/17  
__**Summary:**____Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to overcome the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The resurrection of a sinister Agency project and the return of an irate ex aren't going to make her life any easier._  
_**Rating:**__ PG-13  
__**Warning:**__ This story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender. The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have anything.  
__  
_

* * *

**Chapter 16: Fallout**

Joe Bartel sighed as he parked the car on the deserted street. The sun was a few minutes from coming up over the Atlantic Ocean and in the predawn light, everything looked shabby. In the eighteen months since the tragedy, many things had changed at the agency. Jacobs was working directly for the President now and had recommended Bartel to replace him as director. The move had surprised Joe but he understood that things had to change radically if they were going to avoid the same pitfalls in the future. His first step had been to disperse power over a larger group, forcing accountability for projects involving the Supers. He'd also done his best to rebuild the relationships between the Supers and the agency. The most successful gesture had been to stop treating them like tools and bring them into the decision making process. Still, it had been a long, slow process and it wasn't over by any means. And through it all, Joe had held onto the hope that Invisigirl was still out there. Every free moment had been dedicated to trying to track down what had happened to Mirage and after twelve months of investigating rumors, whispers and hopes, he found himself following a lead that didn't even qualify as "slim."

He got out of the car and took a few minutes to look over the storefront before entering. The surf shop looked old and dilapidated. It had certainly been part of the scenery for more than a year and a half. There were no signs of a recent change in ownership and nothing overt to point to the object of his search. He reached up and touched the bud in his ear. "You're sure this is the right address, Mike?

"You're the one who did the research, sir," came the slightly exasperated reply. "This is where the money trail led."

Bartel chewed his lower lip. The storefront was just what he expected to see in the part of a resort town where only the locals hung out. It didn't look like the kind of place Mirage would set herself up in and even he had to admit that the connection to Black Diamond Productions was tenuous at best. Mirage had always exuded class and poise; the surf shop was grungy. Faded posters blocked most of the front windows and it had been several days since the entryway had been swept out. On the other hand, the very fact that it was run-down and seemed ill cared for could be a front to throw him off the trail. He placed a cell phone sized device against the wall next to the electronic door lock and was rewarded with a soft beep and a sharp click. The door opened up a crack.

Inside, the store looked no different than one would expect from seeing the front. Posters filled the windows and very little of the morning light made its way into the shop. One glance told him that this was a real surfer's shop, not some tourist trap selling Ron Jon stickers and OP sunglasses. The merchandise was all practical and crammed onto one side and the other half of the store was filled with makeshift seating arranged around a low workbench that doubled as a sales counter. The smell of wax, uncured fiberglass resin and a faint odor of marijuana hung in the air.

"Who's there?" An unfamiliar female voice drifted into the shop from a curtained doorway. "Nicky, I told you not to come in here before you saw me turn on the lights. If I have to, I'll replace that lock again…"

Joe turned toward the sound and the curtain was drawn back from a spot much lower than he had expected. The scent of fresh coffee preceded a wheelchair into the room. The light came on and Joe found himself looking down at a middle-aged woman in a wheelchair. His first thought was that he'd come to another dead end.

"You're not Nicky" She said matter-of-factly. "Did he give you the key? I swear! I never should have hired the little delinquent." She paused, looking at him intently. After a few moments of awkward silence, she barked: "Well?"

Bartel was momentarily at a loss for words. Finally he managed; "The door was ope-"

"No it wasn't." She interrupted sharply then glared at him through narrowed eyes, waiting for him to speak. When it became obvious he wasn't going to say anything, she went on. "You don't look like a surfer. You're not a local. You're not a tourist. Maybe you're a cop? You look like a cop. Are you a cop? Doesn't matter," she waved, dismissively. "I've got a prescription for the pot and Nicky was here with me."

"I'm not a cop."

"You here to rob me then? You don't look like a robber."

"I'm sorry, Miss." He said, resignedly. "I was looking for someone and I'd heard that I could find her here." The woman in the chair was obviously not Mirage. She was too old, her hair was the wrong color, her facial structure was all wrong and her speech patterns didn't match either.

"Well I do get a lot of kids in here, haven't seen anyone new hanging around for a while though. You're looking for someone? Your daughter, maybe?" She rolled her chair around the shop setting up the various displays and tools with practiced ease. "Maybe one of my kids will know something. If you'd like to hang around for a few hours, just about all the locals come through here at some point in the morning. If your daughter is in the area, one of them will know about it." She sniffed, reflectively. "If you ask nicely, they might even tell you what they know. Would you like some coffee while you wait?" She turned and started rolling toward the curtained doorway once more and Bartel saw her face in profile.

"Actually," he said in a low voice, "I'm looking for a fugitive super named 'Mirage.'"

She covered well. There was only a slight hesitation as she reached to propel herself forward. It could have easily been missed but Bartel was on high alert and he noticed the slight reaction. He moved quickly to interpose himself between her and the doorway. "I don't know how you managed to change your appearance so dramatically but I know it's you."

"I don't know what you're talking about." The voice was confident but her eyes were nervous, darting around looking for an escape route.

"Abyssus abyssum invocate!" Bartel shouted. He hoped he had the pronunciation correct. When the woman stiffened in her seat and her eyes rolled up into her head, he let out a sigh of relief. "Datum perficiemus munus" he said carefully. The woman's face twitched and her head jerked side to side a few times. Her lips moved but she didn't speak. After approximately fifteen seconds, her eyes opened and she looked up at him blankly.

He studied her features for several minutes, moving from one side to the other, marveling at the work done to her face. Under what had to be very expensive plastic surgery, he could still see a little bit of her original bone structure. It was definitely her. The only thing that really hadn't changed was her profile. Had he not caught her just right, he probably would have left thinking this was just another dead end. He shook his head quickly to clear his thoughts. After a moment of contemplation, he reached up and removed the bud from his ear. "Mike, this could get tricky." He murmured. "Protocol foxtrot-beta, classified communication procedure one. No coms for one hour." He heard a faint "Yes, Director." as he shut it off.

"Mirage, report"

"Abyssus abyssum invocate. I have been activated by an authorized agent. I am awaiting assignment." She said in a monotone.

"No assignment." He muttered, "I just need you to answer some questions."

"Abyssus abyssum invocate. I have been activated by an authorized agent. I am awaiting assignment."

He kicked himself mentally, when agents were in this state, they needed to have everything spoon fed to them. It made his skin crawl and he tried to remember the code phrase for 'act normal' but drew a blank. "Imperium in imperio. Your assignment is to answer the questions of the activating agent fully and factually."

"I have been activated by an authorized agent. My assignment is to answer the questions of the activating agent fully and factually. Datum perficiemus munus."

"Where is Invisigirl?"

"Invisigirl is interred in the shrine erected to her in Metroville." She said without inflection.

Bartel cussed under his breath. That was not what he wanted to hear. For one thing, he knew there was no body in the Metroville Memorial and for another, it meant that he'd just spent more than a year and a half chasing a shadow and he had nothing to show for it but a crippled low-level operative and a severely depleted discretionary fund. He turned back toward her, intending to release her from the compulsion and erase the meeting from her mind. From the corner of his eye he thought he saw her smirking. When he stared at her full on, there was no reaction. He performed several standard tests and she seemed to be completely under but he couldn't get the idea that he'd glimpsed her smirking out of his mind. He decided to see if she was just playing around with semantics and question her a little further.

"Where is Violet Parr?"

"Violet Parr is interred in the shrine erected to Invisigirl in Metroville."

Bartel thought furiously, he was still being too specific. He needed to force her into a place where she couldn't slip around the question. He needed to be absolutely sure. "When was the last time you saw the woman known as Invisigirl?"

"I visited the shrine erected to Invisigirl sixty three days ago."

The monotone delivery was getting creepier each time he heard it. "That's not what I meant. When did you last see the woman known as Invisigirl alive?"

"I… I do not want to answer the activating agent's question."

"Why not?"

The monotone delivery was replaced by a whisper. "It hurts."

_Chi stumbled toward the door. Her bare feet felt raw. She'd lost her shoes somewhere a few blocks back. Those Diane von Furstenbergs weren't exactly made for running in, but she was really going to miss them. Struggling to get more air into her tired lungs, she pushed open the warehouse door and peered into the gloom inside. "I don't see anyone, Vi." She gasped. "It looks deserted." Her sides hurt from the exertion of running and she was pretty sure she had a cut on her left foot. She stepped gingerly to one side as Violet carefully negotiated a complicated force field gurney arrangement supporting Agent Dicker's limp form through the doorway. Momentarily, she resented Violet's stamina. Her own lungs were on fire but the dark haired girl seemed completely unaffected by their half-mile sprint and she'd been dealing with the unconscious Dicker the whole way. She'd also managed to keep her shoes on._

_After helping Violet maneuver Dicker through the door, Chi poked her head outside and quickly looked both ways before ducking back in and slamming the door. "I don't see anyone out there, Vi. I think we lost them."_

"_Good! Help me get him situated. I'll need something to support his head and something to use as a bandage, he's lost a lot of blood and I'm not sure I'm applying pressure in the right place." There was a note of hysteria in the younger woman's voice and Mirage paused for a second, concerned. What she saw nearly broke her heart. Violet's hands and arms were covered in blood. There were red smudges on her face and spatters on her clothing. Intellectually, Chi knew it wasn't Violet's blood but the thought, the possibility, stabbed at her like a knife and she had difficulty drawing breath which had nothing to do with the stitch in her side and the fire in her lungs. The next few minutes were a blur of bloody hands and clothing while the two of them tried to figure out how to stop the life draining out of the old agent. After what seemed like an eternity, Violet sat back on her heels and wiped a bloody hand across her brow. "I think that's got the bleeding stopped. We'll have to get an ambulance here."_

_Chi bit her lower lip and avoided Violet's eyes. _

_Violet exploded. "I don't care if they find us! I can't let him die!"_

"_Anatoli will be here soon, we can call for an ambulance once we're…" Chi's voice trailed off under the intense glare from Violet._

"_I'm not leaving him until I know he's getting proper treatment." Violet's tone was soft but there was no compromise in it. She pulled out her phone._

_Chi could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and a sob interrupted her words, "If w-we c-call an ambulance, th-they're going to find us." She stopped trying to fight it and let the tears flow. "They're going to lock me up, Vi" She wrapped her arms tightly around her own torso and backed away._

_Violet paused, thumb posed over the "send" button. "Us, Chi. They're going to lock us up." Her thumb mashed the button and she brought the phone up to her ear. "And I'm not gonna let that happen. They're not gonna lock you up. They're not gonna lock me up. It ain't gonna happen. And if they try-"_

"_**NO**!" The vehemence of Chi's response surprised both of them._

*Nine-one-one-please-state-the-nature-of-your-emergency.*

_Violet stood still, mouth open, eyes wide in shock._

_Chi moved quickly to her and grasped her arms. "You can't throw your life away for me, Violet. I'm not worth it!"_

*Hello-nine-one-one-please-state-the-nature-of-your-emergency.*

"_I'm already in deep shit, Chi." Violet reasoned. "I just busted someone out of a federal prison. At best, you're an accomplice. I'm the one who-"_

*Please-state-the-nature-of-your-emegency.*

_Violet moved the phone up to her ear. _

"_Medical emergency. Elderly white male with a gunshot wound in the stomach, possible broken bones. Seventeen-thirty-five West Durmant Avenue." She snapped the phone closed, tossed it aside and gently took Chi's hands. "Chi…? Look at me." She clasped Chi's hands together and cupped the blonde's cheek with her free hand. "I will not let them lock you up."_

_Chi flung her hands away and retreated several steps. "Vi, you're a hero! You can't throw away your life for me! I'm not worth it!"_

_Violet stood there, her feet rooted to the ground, her hands fluttering around in shock and uncertainty. When she found her voice, it was small and barely carried the few yards between them. "How can you say that? You're my…"_

"_Your what?" Chi shouted. "Your Iago? Your Bismarck? Your Machiavelli?"_

_Violet's hands stopped moving and her face scrunched up in confusion. "Chi, what the hell are you talking about?"_

_Chi closed the distance between them and grabbed Violet's shoulders. "I'm one of the bad guys, Violet. I'm dragging you down the wrong path! If you try to protect me, you're going to ruin your life!"_

_Violet cupped Chi's face in her hands and leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips. "Shh." She put one arm around Chi's shoulders and gently pulled the light-haired woman into an embrace, planting another soft kiss on her forehead as she drew her in. "First of all, we're both good guys. We're not the ones kidnapping people or brainwashing them. In fact, we just performed a daring rescue at great peril to life and limb, and if we don't get the guy we rescued to the hospital soon, it'll all be for nothing." Violet gently moved Chi to where they could see eye to eye. "Anatoli'll be here soon. The ambulance will be here soon. We'll be gone soon after that and we'll go where they can never touch you, never hurt you again." She leaned in to kiss Chi gently once more. "'Cause you're right. I'm the hero, and you're my damsel. And the hero always gets the damsel, right?"_

_Tears streamed down Chi's face. "I guess so."_

_The door burst open and several burly men swarmed into the area spreading out between the two women and the exit, assault rifles ready and aimed._

_Violet cursed under her breath. Chi could see her frustration plainly in her clenched fists and teeth._

_"HANDSOVERYOURHEADDOWNONTHEGROUND! NOWNOWNOW! DOWN! GET DOWN!"_

_Her voice was calm, "This man is in-"_

_"SHUT UP AND GET ON THE GROUND!"_

_Chi couldn't move. Her tortured muscles just gave up and refused to respond to her desires. Violet raised her arms and turned slowly. There was a slight tremor in her voice as she tried to defuse the situation. "This man is injured, he needs-"_

_Gunfire erupted from all around them. Pain exploded in Chi's back and her world tilted as she crumpled to the floor. Time seemed to slow down. Pain radiated through her back, stomach, arms and head while her legs just seemed to disappear. An involuntary scream ripped out of her mouth and she heard an answering scream from Violet._

_"NOOOOOOO!" There was an intense flash of light as Violet exploded into a bright white nova. A powerful beam shot from her outstretched arms and penetrated one of their assailants. It ripped through him, exploding his body from the inside. Wet, burned pieces of meat flew out to splatter the other men. One chunk hit the force field Violet had erected in front of Chi and slowly oozed down toward the floor. Her stomach churned as the stench of charred flesh assaulted her. She fell to the floor. Her head hit the concrete and a small flare of pain added itself to the supernova in her back. Dry heaves shook her torso and she heard the unmistakable sounds of someone else emptying the contents of their stomach onto the concrete floor. Then Violet was in front of her. Tears streamed down the dark haired girl's face. A pale hand reached for her and a twinge of pain crossed her face. Chi noticed a spot of fresh blood on Violet's shoulder._

_"You're shot..." The words were hard to get out. She couldn't find the breath she needed._

_Violet's face was a mask of horror. "Oh, Chi!"_

_Chi tried to reach for her lover but her arms didn't seem to be in the right place. "Vi, I can't feel my legs..." _

_Violet's expression turned quickly from horror to guilt and then to rage. She stood abruptly and her entire body began to glow. A scream of incoherent rage filled the building and white hot beams of coherent light shot from her hands. The sickening wet sounds of bodies exploding filled Chi's ears and she cried. The physical pain in her back was nothing compared to the emotional pain of knowing she had corrupted the only good thing in her life. Violet was a killer now and it was all her fault._

_The paramedics put her on a gurney. The smell of cooked meat permeated her sinuses. Violet was next to her, holding her hand but she couldn't feel it. Violet was arguing with the paramedics. Her hand was encased in Violet's and she could see whitening around her knuckles but she couldn't feel anything. The paramedics were pushing Violet away. She was crying. The men in dark suits interposed themselves between them and, as the ambulance doors shut, they pulled Violet away. She was crying.  
_

Bartel snapped his fingers in front of Mirage's face. "Datum perficiemus munus. The agent is commander to report. When was the last time you saw Violet Parr alive?"

The blonde's lips moved wordlessly for a moment before she began to speak in a monotone, "When they put me in the ambulance. She promised to come to the hospital… She was crying."

Joe glanced through the file on his PDA. "Was that in the warehouse on Durmant?"

"Yes. They wouldn't let her ride with me." A frown creased her forehead. "She promised to come to see me. She never did."

"You never made it to the hospital, Mirage. Your people intercepted the ambulance and took you to a private clinic in Geneva."

"She promised to come to see me. She never did."

"Do you know why she never came to see you?"

"She... promised to come and see me."

"I know she did, Mirage. Do you know why she never came?"

"She… promised."

"She sacrificed herself, Mirage. She sacrificed herself to save the lives of thousands of people, maybe millions."

"_SHE PROMISED_!" The scream reverberated throughout the small shop. Mirage's head thrashed back and forth violently and she slipped down slightly in her wheel chair.

"_**SHE PROMISED**_!"

Joe moved forward swiftly and caught her before she slid down to the floor. Her slight frame vibrated in his hands and her head continued to whip side to side. "Mirage! Abyssus abyssum invocate." The tremors stopped and she stiffened momentarily before going limp. He gently re-situated her in the wheelchair and tenderly pushed her hair back from her face. "She tried, Mirage." He whispered. "She just never got the chance."

_Joe clutches the back of the seat in front of him. Invisigirl's voice, tinny over the radio, fills the silence of the packed communications room. _

_"The rest of the hostages are all huddled together near the entrance to the service tunnels. There are four men with assault rifles guarding them and two near a large control console looking at some kind of large book. I can see the device. It looks almost exactly like the picture I saw. It's leaning up against a post under two big beams. I don't see any wires leading to it."_

_There are way too many people crowded into the space. Every console is manned and every square foot of floor space is occupied by someone. The smell of fear and sweat is cloying. Monitors cover every available inch of wall space and images of a mass evacuation fill the monitors. The military man standing next to the director leans in and murmurs, "It's an old Soviet suitcase bomb, possibly nuclear but more likely biological or chemical." Jacobs' glare bores into him and he backs off._

_The technician at the communications console licks his lips and clears his throat. "What do you mean, 'the rest of the hostages?'"_

_"They killed at least three." _

_Joe can't tell if her voice sounds so cold because of the radio or if she's just that far gone._

_The director growls, "We can't do anything for them now, man. Get on with it!"_

"_Can you see any identifying marks or numbers on the beams?"_

_"Yeah, one is A-3-3-7 the other is… M… something. I can't read it."_

_All eyes in the control room turn to the screen where a structural engineer is rapidly searching the microfiche blueprints of the Metroville Municipal Power Distribution Station. For a few seconds the images speed by too blurry to read, then they abruptly stop._

"_Oh, fuck me!" It's whispered but in the heavy silence it carries._

_The engineer turns to look at the Director. "Sir," his voice cracks, "It's a support junction for the western levee reinforcement." _

_"I can see some markings on the device too. There's a kind of backward 'R' then a thing that looks like and 'A' and then it's 'e-p-h-.'"_

_Joe's knees buckle. It's Ukrainian for 'Nuclear.'_

_The military man stutters, "M-maybe it's just… a d-decoy."_

_The Director's voice cuts through the low din. "If she can get that thing out, can your boys deal with it?"_

_The shaken man nods. He's swallowing nervously and blinking rapidly, "Yes, sir," he manages to whisper. "There's a special team that—"_

"_Well get them on the goddamned horn and get them here!" the director's shout reverberates through the room. Suddenly everyone remembers that they've got a job to do and the sound of frantic activity becomes a dull roar in the background._

_For several minutes, Joe is busy coordinating between the military bomb squad and the agency's rescue and recovery team. Maps are spread out in front of him and the positions of the various teams are updated at irregular intervals as information comes in to the other agents around him. He is vaguely aware that Invisigirl is being coached on how to disconnect the device from the beams. A disheartening snatch of conversation reaches him during a lull in the conversation. "…ould Speedy get it far enough away in that time?" "Doesn't matter, Speedy was injured in the fight with the escaped robots." _

_Invisigirl's voice cuts through the background noise. She sounds strained. "I've got it, where am I taking it?"_

"_Have they noticed?"_

_"Don't waste my time asking me stupid questions. Just tell me where to take this thing. And hurry up, it's heavy!"_

"_Yes, Ma-am. Sorry Ma-am."_

_"I'm still waiting."_

_Joe pushes the flustered technician out of his chair and grabs the headset. "On the north wall is a stairway labeled 'street access G.'"_

_"That you, Joe?"_

"_Yes."_

_"How many flights of stairs?"_

"_Three."_

_"Any chance there's a convenient handicapped ramp between me and the exit?"_

"_I'm afraid not, Invisigirl." _

_Gradually, conversations in the control room die off. Soon the only sound is Invisigirl's labored breathing over the radio. Minutes pass like hours. The sounds of exertion are punctuated by occasional murmured curses. After what seems like an eternity, Invisigirl speaks up, "I think they just figured out that it's gone. I hear a lot of yelling and… I see a door up there."_

_Joe glanced over at the status board. "That door should also have a large letter 'G' on it."_

_"It does."_

"_The bomb squad is on their way but they're still—"_

_"Oh, shit!"_

"_What?"_

"_This thing just started beeping at me... I'm through the door… Oh my god!"_

"_What's going on? What's wrong?"_

*I-have-eyes-on-Invisigirl. She-just-exited-the-door. There-are-hundreds-of-civilians-in-the-area.*

_Panic fills Violet's voice, "There are people everywhere! Where's the bomb squad? This thing is beeping!"_

*Moving-toward-target. She's-placed-the-device-on-the-ground.*

"_Do we have eyes on that location?" The director's shout sends dozens of agents scrambling. _

"_Got it!"_

"_Put it up on the main screen!" _

_The main screen flickers and resolves into a long shot overlooking the municipal transit plaza outside the power plant. SWAT trucks are rolling in from one side and the whole thing is filled with people milling around aimlessly. Agents in tactical gear are waving their arms and shouting but none of the civilians seem to be taking heed. At first Joe has a hard time finding Invisigirl in the chaos but she soon stands out. A bright, shimmering wall is rapidly expanding from a location near one side of the open courtyard. As it grows, people, planters, benches and even small trees and walls are being rapidly forced away. Now others are seeing what's going on and trying to flee. Debris is building up on the leading edge and those unfortunate enough to be caught between the expanding field and anything solid are being crushed by the forces involved. _

"_Violet, NO!" Joe can't help himself, in his panic he forgets protocol and calls her by her given name instead of her public name. "You can't get them far enough away! It's nuclear!" _

_"What!?"_

"_The bomb is nuclear!"_

_The wall suddenly dissipates and he can see her standing motionless and alone. Next to the large backpack, she looks small and frail and… defeated. Her shoulders shake and her head drops into her hands. _

_Suddenly she straightens up. Her head snaps up and her arms shoot out. An opaque globe, about six feet in diameter, forms around the bomb. Violet is not readily visible. It takes Joe less than a second to realize she's inside the globe with the bomb. "What the hell are you doing?" he screams. _

_"My fields are stronger if I'm inside them." She tries to keep the fear out of her voice but it cracks on the last word. A rapid beeping underlines her words._

"_You can contain it from outside!"_

_"Can I?_"_ the beeping has become almost a constant tone. "I'm dead anyway and if you're wrong, everyone in Metroville will die with me."_

"_The bomb squad—"_

_"-is too late. Tell Chi I—"_

"_Violet! NO!" The monitor screens showing the plaza shake and go to static. The building they're in shakes violently._

Joe took a deep breath and banished the memories. He had hoped so much that she had found a way to protect herself from the blast. His hope had consumed him to the point where he had convinced himself of the possibility, then the probability that she had survived. By the time, he'd found Mirage he'd been almost sure of it. Now, he paced slowly, considering his options. He couldn't think of any scenario where Violet would not have contacted Chi if she'd survived the explosion. It was time to admit that the anomalies he thought he saw in the data were wishful thinking and not hard evidence. Violet Parr was dead.

Joe looked back at the woman in the wheelchair and resolved to check the feasibility of providing some kind of counseling or financial support for her. Of course, she really didn't need the latter, but she certainly deserved better than cowering in some dirty little surf shop, dreading the day she'll be found by the Feds. If he couldn't help her mentally or financially, he could at least make sure she was left in peace.

"Mirage," he moved over to stand directly in front of her and pulled up the phrase program on his PDA. A few minutes of searching brought up the information he needed. "Listen carefully. "Imperium in imperio. Igne natura renovator integra. Alterius non sit qui suus esse potest." He cleared his throat. "Once more, Mirage, listen carefully. Imperium in imperio. Igne natura renovator integra. Alterius non sit qui suus esse potest."

The woman's head lolled back and she sagged a bit as though asleep.

Bartel shut the door to the surf shop gently behind him. Disappointed as he was, he could at least put the question of Invisigirl's demise to rest. If she'd survived, there was no way she wouldn't have contacted Mirage. He reestablished communications with his back-up team, dismissed them and started the process of wrapping up the operation. With a heavy heart he made his way to the car to file his report.

- Mirage's whereabouts confirmed.

- Mirage's agent activation protocols terminated.

- Reallocate funding for project Phoenix to highest priority underfunded project.

- Change Mirage's status from "location and threat level: unknown" to "location: known, threat level: none."

He hesitated before continuing. It took him several attempts to type the simple sentence and when he'd finished, it was several minutes before he could hit the 'send' button.

-Invisigirl confirmed dead.

Bartel shut down the secure server and closed his laptop. The car felt too closed in. He couldn't catch his breath. Desperately he grabbed for the door handle and threw the door open, spilling himself out onto the street. His legs weak, he pulled himself upright using the car door before he sagged against the roof trying to catch his breath. The sun shone brightly overhead. A cool breeze brought refreshing ocean air and the happy sounds of the nearby boardwalk opening up for the day. A group of teenagers on bicycles swept by, each one with a surfboard tucked under one arm, leaving easy laughter in their wake.

It was a perfect day.

End.

* * *

Here is a list of the Latin phrases and their translations-

Datum perficiemus munus (we shall accomplish the mission assigned)

Abyssus abyssum invocate (deep calleth unto deep)

Imperium in imperio (an order within an order)

Actus me invite factus non est meus actus (the act done by me against my will is not my act)

Alterius non sit qui suus esse potest (let no man be another's who can be his own)

natura renovator integra (through fire nature is reborn)

* * *

_Next Time: picking up the broken pieces._

_**Author's note:**__ Thank you all for coming along on this journey with me. And, again, special thanks to _King in Yellow _who did his best to push this to a happier place but still provided awesome support and encouragement when I wouldn't go there. Drop me a line and let me know what you thought about the journey and where we ended up. Every signed review gets a response. Even the ones calling for my head on a pike._

_-Alex_


	17. Epilogue: Aftermath

_****__**Author**__: __A Markov_**_  
___****Title**_: __Out of Sight, Out of Mind_**_  
___****Chapter:**_ 17/17  
_**__****Summary:**_ Sequel to Vanishing Love. Violet thought growing up was hard, until she fell in love. Now she is struggling to build a future in a relationship that nobody, including herself, understands but the past won't leave them alone. Is love strong enough to withstand the sins of the past? Can she find balance between love, family and duty? The pressure of getting ready for college and the return of an irate ex isn't going to make her life any easier.  
_**__****Rating:**_ PG-13  
_**__****Warning:**_ T__his story contains some explicit language and deals with mature themes including consensual sex between adults of the same gender. The characters and locations are property of Disney and Pixar. They are used here without permission or profit. You're welcome to sue me, I don't have__ anything._

_**Author's Note:**__ You knew there was going to be an epilogue, right?_

* * *

**Chapter 17: Aftermath**

Joe watched the kids ride toward the beach. He felt old and tired and wondered if he'd ever had that much energy. If there'd ever been a time in his life when nothing mattered more than hanging out with your friends and catching a few waves. He took a deep breath and let out a sigh that transformed into a startled gasp as a ghost materialized out of nowhere directly in front of him.

"Hi, Joe."

Bartel took an involuntary step back and nearly tripped over his own feet. He felt a gentle pressure supporting him and preventing his fall. When he recovered his balance, he regarded the apparition for a moment. Slowly and carefully, he reached out a hand and poked the apparition in the arm. It was solid flesh. He glanced back toward the shop where he had left Mirage. "Does she know…?"

Violet Parr smiled. "Yes. Yes she does."

"That was quite a performance."

Violet waved a hand, dismissively. "A little hypnotic suggestion, a little practice, a couple of acting classes."

"So, she'd already shed the conditioning," he pursed his lips, "I don't suppose, you'd like to tell me how you two accomplished that little feat."

She waved him off. "You earned enough points for your little gesture at the end that I'm willing to believe you're a stand-up guy and take a chance on letting you know I'm alive. But you shouldn't think that absolves you for trying to use her agency conditioning to get information first."

"How long has she...?"

Violet shrugged. "About a year."

Bartel frowned. "So, right before she dropped out of sight. I guess that makes sense." He raised an eyebrow, "She was pretty broken up..."

"Yeah, it wasn't easy on either one of us."

* * *

_Violet studied the two images carefully one in the mirror, and one on the security badge she held in her hand. To the one in the mirror, she made several small but significant changes and went back to studying them again. After few more minutes of scrutiny, she nodded her head, satisfied that she would pass scrutiny. She clipped the ID card to her lab coat, took a deep breath and exited the bathroom. For this to work, she needed to impersonate a member of the staff. The clinic where Chi was being treated was private and had excellent security. She crossed the nearly empty reception area as though she was supposed to be there but her heart beat in her chest like a drum. _

_ It had been very difficult to adapt to being completely on her own and it had taken her nearly four months to track Chi down without giving away the fact that she was alive. When she did find her, she nearly despaired at the scope of the security surrounding the blonde, until she realized that the security was set up to keep Agency people out, not keep Chi in. The next few weeks were spent testing the system, trying to draw out any Agency surveillance. Those weeks had been the hardest by far. Being so close… actually being in the same room as Chi once… it had taken all of her will power to keep quiet, to let the moment pass without throwing her arms around her and never letting go. _

_She was confident now that she could reveal herself to Chi without alerting anyone else, but there her confidence ended. She'd spent the last six months thinking of nothing but this meeting and how to make it happen without being exposed and she didn't even know if Chi still… She stopped the thought right there and banished it from her mind. _

_Violet grabbed a clipboard from the nurse's station and made her way down the deserted corridor. She nodded to the security guards, swiped her stolen badge across the security pad and waited an interminable half a second before she was rewarded with a small click and the LED changed color from red to green. She pushed through the doors and strode down the hall with an outward confidence she didn't feel at all. Violet paused at the door to Chi's private suite and tried to calm her nerves. If Chi didn't forgive her for faking her own death, it was a pretty good bet she'd be back under the Agency's thumb before the end of the week._

_She took a deep breath and knocked on the door._

_"Come."_

_Violet's heart fluttered in her chest and she had a hard time getting a good breath. Self doubt nagged at her. What if Chi was angry with her? What if she'd fallen for some cute physical therapist and moved on? What if she just never really— _

_The thought was interrupted by Chi's voice, "It's very late, Madeline. What do you need?"_

_Violet took in the sight of her beloved. Chi was sitting up in a hospital bed, a lattice of metal spikes and rods extruding from her legs. In her left hand she held a book. Her right was resting on her lap. She wore a dark green silk robe. It was carelessly open at the neck exposing her delicate collar bones. Her hair was slightly mussed and much longer than the last time Vi had seen it. Her face was pulled up in an annoyed frown and Violet realized that she been just standing there staring for a long time. She tried to talk but nothing came out._

_Chi's annoyance was evident in her terse "Yes?"_

_Violet swallowed several times. Her mouth was completely dry. "It's me." She finally managed to croak out._

_"Yes, Madeline, I know it's you. What do you need?"_

_Violet shook her head vigorously. "No, not Madeline," her tongue was stuck to the top of her mouth and she was still having trouble finding her breath, "me."_

_Chi put the book down a little forcefully and rubbed her forehead with the fingers on her left hand. "What are you…?" Her voice trailed off as Violet let go of the illusion. Chi shook her head and began pushing herself back into the bed, trying to get away. "No-no-no-no-no-no-no-NO-NO-NO-**NO**! YOU'RE DEAD!" Her eyes darted around and her head turned frantically, searching for an answer. She closed her eyes and Violet could hear her mumbling to herself, "it's-not-real-she's-not-here-you're-not-crazy-you're-not-crazy."_

_Tears streamed from Violet's eyes. "I'm here," she sobbed. "I'm real." She moved toward Chi and held out her arms. _

_Chi's eyes opened wide, "You're dead!" she screamed. Her arm whipped across her body and her hand caught Violet squarely on her cheek._

_The slap took Violet completely by surprise. She staggered, not from the physical blow, but from the emotional one. She collapsed onto her knees at the side of the bed and buried her face in her hands._

_Violet's surprise was echoed in Chi's exclamation. "Ow." The blonde looked at her stinging hand, then down at the dark haired girl. "That actually hurt… you're not a dream?" _

_Violet didn't hear her over the sounds of her own crying. She wanted to scramble away and find somewhere to die. Why hadn't she died in the blast? She could have just let it go and it would have saved her this pain. Even dying from the radiation sickness would have been better than this. A finger was prodding her head. A hand grabbed her hair. Chi's voice penetrated her grief._

_"You're here? You're really here? I'm not dreaming?"_

_Violet pulled herself to her feet and let Chi's hands touch her face and hair. She reached up and clasped them in her own, bringing them to her lips. "I'm here. I'm here. You're not dreaming." Chi pulled her down, yanking her off balance and wrapped her arms around her. She returned the embrace and they cried together._

_After a while, Violet didn't know exactly how long, she became aware of something poking her in the side; one of the stainless steel rods sticking out of Chi's leg. She moved away and apologized. "I hope I'm not hurting…" Her voice trailed off when she saw Chi's expression._

_"Why?"_

_The pain in her voice stabbed into violet. __"When they attacked us, I realized I was always going to be a target. They were never going to leave me alone. I thought… I was so tired, so scared. I thought you were going to die. I thought I wanted to die. I thought… If I was dead… It would be all over. They'd leave me alone. They'd leave you alone. but only if e_veryone thought I was dead."

_"I'm not everyone!"_

_"I couldn't take the risk, Chi."_

_"What about me? What about my risk? I thought you were... I almost… I thought you were dead. Why couldn't you…?"_

_"If you knew about it, they would too."_

_"You don't trust me?"_

_"It isn't about trust, it's about—"_

_"Trust! I would never betray you!"_

_"I know! It's them! I don't trust them!"_

_"You left me!"_

_"Do you think I wanted to? Do you think it was easy? I... never wanted to cause you this pain. I__ love you."_

_"Then why did you leave me?"_

_"I had to, Chi. You know our only chance is if they think I'm dead."_

___"That's bullshit. There had to be some way that was better than ripping out my heart and… __You can't just... What do you want from me?"_"

_"Nothing… Everything… I… love you, Chi."_

_ "I love you too, Vi. But you can't just make me think you're dead for six months and waltz back into my life like nothing happened."_

_"I know, Chi. I know." Violet chewed her lower lip, tears flowing freely down her face. She lowered her head. Her tears dropped into her hands._

_"You left me, Vi."_

_"No, Chi, I couldn't. When the moment came, I knew I couldn't leave you. I couldn't do that to you."_

_"But you did!" Chi's voice was raw from crying. "I've been laying here for six months knowing that you were dead. Thinking about…" _

_"I thought it was the only way we could be together." Violet collapsed, her body racked with sobs. "I'm so sorry…" she repeated over and over again. Finally she gathered herself together. She sat up but couldn't meet Chi's eyes. She got up and started toward the door. "I'll go and—"_

_"NO!"_

_Violet's head snapped up, her eyes filled with hope._

_"Don't leave me again."_

_"I won't. I'm not. Tell me what to do and I'll do it. How can I...?"_

_"You can't... You can't just show up one day and think everything is going to be alright. 'cause it isn't. It isn't alright." Chi grabbed both of Violet's hands, "It can be though. It just takes time; time to remind ourselves of what it was, time to get to know each other again, time to rebuild trust."_

_"I'll give you all the time you need."_

_Chi looked down at their entwined hands. "It's not going to be easy, Violet. You left me. You can't just… There's just so much to work through. Trust has to be built again... We have to learn if - if we're even the same people we were. If we can fit in each others lives..." She raised her head and the pain in her tear-filled eyes cut Violet to the heart. "It's a long and important process, and… and… can we just skip over it? Can you just be kissing me now?"_

_Violet fell into her lover's arms and pressed her lips to Chi's. She lost herself in the contact and they both cried tears of relief and joy. It wasn't perfect. She had a lot of work to do. But that was for tomorrow and the next day. Today was for promising to be here for it._

* * *

Violet shook her head and smiled up at him. "It wasn't easy, but that's not why you're here."

Bartel nodded, conceding the point. "No, it isn't. I had thought, hoped that you... and now I find you so I..."

Violet held up a hand. "Stop right there. I'm not coming back."

"But you-"

"Not. Happening." She growled.

He shook his head in confusion, "Then... why would you...? what now?"

"Now, we take a little walk." Violet gestured for him to pick a direction. He glanced around, turned toward the ocean and offered her his arm. She took it and they began strolling toward the boardwalk. "As you can probably imagine, neither one of us is very keen on you or your agency, Mr. Bartel." Violet paused and pulled away slightly so she could see him a little better, "Or should I call you 'Director' now?"

Still a little confused, Joe decided to humor her. "Ms. Parr, you have earned the right to call me whatever you like. 'Joe' is fine."

Violet's smile brightened the entire sidewalk, "and you can call me Violet."

They walked on in silence for a few minutes. "Violet…?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly and the smile dimmed, "You have something more important to be doing right now, Joe?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I do have an agency to run, you know."

"And you've spent quite a bit of time and money trying to find me so don't pretend that this conversation isn't a priority."

He chuckled. "You got me there. But, in fairness, we aren't talking; we're just walking down the street." They reached the end of the paved sidewalk and continued on to the wooden boardwalk.

It was her turn to nod in agreement. "Why don't you start by telling me why you wouldn't let it go. What is so important about me that you had to seriously deplete the National Supers Agency's rainy-day fund and expend hundreds of man hours to find me?"

"At first, I guess it was just hope. Then, when I realized that Mirage was actively hiding, I worried that she might be planning some kind of revenge. I'm in a tough position, Violet. I'm standing between the people and their gods and I'm trying to make sure no one gets hurt." A small frown flitted across his face. "It's much harder for me to do my job if I don't know where all the gods are and what they're up to."

"You say the sweetest things, Joe." They turned and headed out onto the pier. "I haven't been called a god since last week when I did that swirly thing with my tongue." She watched for a reaction out of the corner of her eye but he didn't even twitch. Violet sighed. "I'm not coming back, Joe. I'm out of the family business. Chi and I are making a good life and it doesn't include you or your agency."

"And if you're needed to save the world?"

Violet's eyes flashed. "I'm not 'on call,' Joe. I'm not saying I won't help if I think it's necessary, but Invisigirl is dead. D-E-A-D, dead! And having her number in your rolodex won't do you any good because she won't come if you call." She turned to him and caught his eye. "And the first time you call will be the last time you know where I am."

"I found you this time."

Violet laughed. "How many months have you been looking for her… twelve…? eighteen?" She stopped walking and leaned against the wooden railing, staring out at the ocean. "How much taxpayer money have you spent? You're a fairly smart guy, Joe. You have to suspect that we allowed you to find us."

Bartel shrugged. "Maybe." He admitted grudgingly. "But that begs the question, 'Why now?'"

"You wouldn't let it go, Joe." She frowned. "You just kept poking at it. There was always a chance you might luck into something and then we'd have to meet on your terms. Right now, I get to control the meeting and ask the hard questions. So," Violet gave him a predatory smile, "What do you want, Joe?"

"Your country needs you, Violet."

She frowned and shook her head. "No it doesn't. There are plenty of people out there who want to help, go talk to them."

"Now that I know you survived, I can integrate you back into—"

"Which part of 'dead' do you not get?"

"Hmph." Bartel turned to face Violet, "Speaking of dead… your girlfriend was involved in the deaths of several supers. It would be a shame if we had to follow up on that." He wasn't sure what reaction he expected the threat to elicit but it wasn't the complete emotional shut-down that came across Violet's face as she turned to face him. But then he noticed that while her face seemed frozen, her eyes were burning.

"Director Bartel," Violet's voice was a low growl. "Mirage was an agent of your agency, brainwashed into a role that resulted in several deaths. If you pursue that angle, her lawyers will drag your agency out of the shadows and through the mud into the court of public opinion. She's got a lot of money. She can buy some very good justice. The Agency has been fighting like hell to maintain its standing in the supers' community. A very public trial where all your past sins were spread out for the general public to see…? I don't think it would survive and who would stand between the people and their gods then? Hm? I don't know what would happen to Jacobs, but I'm absolutely certain he doesn't want to give up his cushy White House gig to come testify in a Federal Court. And when it is all over, when your agency is in ruins and the supers' community is in an uproar and the general public is cowering under their beds and the President's Chief of Staff has resigned in disgrace, then your real troubles would start. Because then, you will have to personally answer to me."

Violet turned away from him. "Besides, there's something you don't seem to understand." She took a breath and let it out in a sigh. "Chi lives in constant regret of her part in what went on at Nomanisan. Do you get that? Even though she had no control over her actions, the thought, the idea, the very notion that, somehow, on some level, she contributed in some way to the deaths of those people still haunts her. I look into her eyes and see that pain every day" Violet glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "The elephant in the room is the threat you're not making."

Bartel raised his eyebrows and frowned. "What threat is that, exactly?"

"I killed a lot of people, Mr. Bartel. Why not threaten me directly?"

Bartel sighed. "I considered it, but you've got a good case for self-defense and you've saved the world several times. The Agency lawyers don't think they could make anything stick and even if they could… well, you were a very popular figure… kind of hard to get a conviction."

"So basically, you've got nothing to hang over my head. Mirage was under your control and I acted in self-defense," Violet laughed, ruefully, "but you're here, trying to intimidate me anyway." Violet grasped Bartel's arm and turned him to face her directly. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret about that day, Joe. I only killed one of them in self-defense." Violet's hands clenched into fists and she turned toward the ocean, staring at nothing. "I thought he was going to kill us. He'd already shot Chi—" Violet's fists clenched and unclenched rhythmically. "We were trapped in that warehouse, surrounded. Dicker was unconscious, bleeding out. Chi and I gave ourselves up. We surrendered. You got that?" She poked him in the chest. "We surrendered and then that trigger-happy ass-hat opened fire on us and shot her." Violet's hands were clenched in fists. "I turned around with my hands up and that fucker shot my…!" Violet took a deep breath to calm herself. When she continued her voice was low and slightly ragged. "I… really don't know what happened. All that fear, all that pain, all that rage just combined inside of me and I did something I'd never done before. I produced a beam of coherent light. It poured out of me and through him. I just wanted the shooting to stop but seeing Chi's blood pouring out of her back… I guess I lost control and… it boiled him from the inside out. He exploded, like a dog in a microwave." She dropped her head and stared at her hands. "I didn't mean to kill him, but he shot Chi and I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to hurt him so bad..."

They stood in silence for a few minutes. Bartel shrugged. "Sounds like self-defense to me."

Violet raised an eyebrow and grimaced. "I guess so but, I killed a lot more people that day." She turned away and swallowed. "The people at the station…" Her voice caught. "I didn't know what else to do… I had to get everyone as far away as I could… I didn't know it was nuclear."

Bartel fidgeted nervously.

"There were children, Joe…"

The pain in her voice cut him like a knife. "No one can hold that against you, Violet."

"Jennifer and Max Draker can."

"Who?"

"Their son, Thomas, was crushed to death by my force field."

"You were trying to save as many people as you could…"

Her eyes narrowed. "And you wonder why I don't want to be associated with you."

They stood in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes. Bartel cleared his throat. "Out of curiosity, how did you contain the blast?"

"Vacuum. Explosions are chain reactions, without anything to bump into, not very explosive."

"But the radiation…"

"Light is a form of radiation, Joe. I'm pretty good at controlling it. I'm not saying it wasn't difficult, but I managed. I was sick for a long time."

"Where…?"

"None of your business."

"Fair enough." He reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder. "I'm not trying to trivialize your pain and regret, Violet, but you haven't said anything that would make me change my mind about you. Don't forget, I was a soldier before I was an agent. I know it isn't easy to live with what you've done but that doesn't make you a bad person."

Violet's eyes were cold steel. "Was it easier to kill your second man, Joe?"

"What?"

"The second guy you killed, was it easier to make the decision to kill him than it was to decide to kill the first guy? How about the third guy? The fourth guy? How many guys did it take for you to stop worrying about it?" She shrugged off his hand and folded her arms across her chest. "After the warehouse I was numb. I didn't even hesitate at the station. I just started pushing. I knew people were going to get hurt. I knew people were going to die, but I didn't pause. I didn't worry. It wasn't important."

"You were trying to save as many as possible! Sometimes that means there are casualties."

"And at the warehouse?"

"They were attacking you!"

"I didn't have to kill them!" She shouted and turned away. When she faced him again, her lips were set in a defiant line, she went on in a more normal voice, "Sure, they were trying to shoot me but I didn't have to kill them. I could have handled them without killing them but I chose to kill them."

Bartel thought about the implications and realized he was in very real danger. His mind raced. Five minutes ago, he'd been convinced she was dead, so why would she reveal herself? She must want something from him but what? Revenge? Her body language didn't say 'revenge' it showed regret. He kept his voice neutral. "What are you saying?"

Violet rolled her eyes and let out a small sigh. "I'm trying to explain the difference between Chi and me. Chi feels regret for every death you involved her in. She goes through every day knowing she is partially responsible for the deaths of those supers, even though she had no choice! She carries a huge burden of guilt." Violet closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. "Do you get that? Do you understand that she's torn up inside over something she had no control over? But that's not me. At the warehouse, it wasn't 'them or me' it was just 'me.' I made a choice."

"What are you going to choose to do today?" He tried to keep his posture casual but his adrenalin was up and he was sure she could hear his heart racing.

"I could do it, you know." Her voice was lazy, distracted. "You remember the blindness?" Violet's eyes narrowed and the two of them were suddenly completely cut off from the rest of the world. Bartel looked around and saw a featureless white expanse with only himself and Violet visible. "I've learned a lot more about physiology since then. I know how the eye works now. I can make the rods and cones in your eyes invisible and poof!" Violet snapped her fingers. "You're blind. And I can do it from anywhere; I don't have to be touching you, Joe. I can do it when you're at the top of a staircase. I can do it when you're driving down the freeway." Her voice was still quiet but there was no doubt she was both able and willing to exactly what she was saying. "I can block an artery in your brain with a tiny force field and give you an aneurism. I can fill your lungs with pockets of nothing and suffocate you. I can constrict your heart's muscles and keep it from beating. I can kill you in any one of a thousand completely untraceable ways and maybe the next director isn't so curious about a former agent and dead super."

"But you're not going to?"

"I don't want to."

Joe concentrated on breathing evenly. There was a big gap between 'I'm not going to' and 'I don't want to.' He had to keep her talking until he could figure out how to placate her. "What do you want?"

"I want to be left alone."

Bartel studied the young woman facing him. Whatever had happened inside her head on that day, she had lost a bit of her humanity. Obviously she wasn't completely gone; she still cared for Mirage and the innocent lives she'd taken weighed heavily on her conscious, but she had stepped over a line and there was nothing stopping her from killing him. He wondered if he would be able to draw out the conversation for long enough to get a sniper in place. But as he considered it, his mind raced back through their conversation and he came to another frightening conclusion. "I'm the only one who can see you right now."

Violet's shy smile lit up her face again and the hardness behind her eyes softened. "I knew you were smart, Joe. I have no idea what your back-up thinks about your little stroll right now, but I assure you, no one else has seen me. As far as the world is concerned, I'm dead, Joe. Invisigirl is dead, and I like it like that." She turned back toward the ocean and whispered, "Now, I just want to be left alone."

"I wish it was that simple, Ms. Parr. But, if you're alive but not working with us, you'll be classified as 'rogue' and the full power of the Agency will be brought to bear against you."

She smiled. It wasn't a pleasant one. "I know I'm alive. Chi knows and now you know. And that brings us to your choice." Violet's hands tensed and her stance shifted a little. "What are you going to choose to do today?"

Bartel's inner voice screamed at him, _she's looking for an excuse to kill you!_ "It doesn't seem like I have any choice, Ms. Parr."

She sighed. "There's always a choice, Joe. Just because you don't like the choices you have, doesn't mean you don't have any." Violet cocked her head to the side. "Dicker taught me that." Her expression softened and she continued in a sweetly reasonable tone. "Your choices are to leave me alone or make me your enemy." She put a hand on his arm and looked directly into his eyes, "I don't want to kill anyone else, Joe." She said sincerely. "I really don't. I don't need money. I don't want power, and I don't want to take over the world either. I honestly have no idea what I'd do with it. But if you back me into a corner…?" She shrugged and turned back to the ocean. "I'm not stupid, Joe. You could take me down. With enough men and enough money you could find me and kill me. Your main concern is how you can be sure it isn't necessary."

"That's the crux of it right there, Ms. Parr. When I sought this meeting I thought, I hoped, you were a young woman disillusioned with the inner workings of the government who could be persuaded to come back into the fold. Now you're telling me that you're willing to kill to get what you want but I should just trust that you don't want to do that. You realize that this situation is exactly what led to the implementation of Project Cadmus in the first place? I'm sure that right now, you're perfectly content, but what assurance do I have that you won't change your mind?"

"That's not the right question." She leaned back against the railing and regarded him through narrowed eyes.

Joe looked at her, his mind racing again. If he didn't figure this out, there was no doubt in his mind that she would kill him. But she didn't want to. She wanted him to live, wanted him to know she was alive. She wanted… peace. She was offering him something… There was a way out of this. All he had to do was ask the right question. "Ms. Parr, why did you choose to kill those mercenaries?"

She turned away from him and hugged herself tightly. "Chi is very insecure and, on some level, she really didn't believe that I could love her. As long as I was a hero, as long as I was "Little Miss Perfect," she couldn't believe she was worthy. She could never believe that someone like that could truly love someone who had done the things she'd done. After that first mercenary died, I realized that I didn't have to be a hero."

Bartel's heart raced in his chest. "That's… disturbing."

"That's your lever, Joe."

Bartel considered this for a moment. "If she found out about what you did and why, she'd be devastated."

Violet smiled and gave him an approving pat on the cheek. "There's your assurance, Joe. It's a knife pointed straight at my heart, and I've just given you control of it." Violet turned back toward the ocean and leaned on the railing. "All I really want is to be left alone. I'm off limits. Chi is off limits. You leave us alone and head off anyone else who starts sniffing around. Dash and Jack will be allowed to make their own choices… I think I'm being quite reasonable."

"And if the world needs you?"

"I'll keep an eye on the world. If she really needs me, I'll step up and help her out."

* * *

_-Fifteen hours later at thirty thousand feet, somewhere over the Gulf of Mexico_

A dark-haired girl emerges from the bathroom and makes her way back to the Lear Jet's lounge. She pauses for a moment to take in the sight of her girlfriend. The blonde is sitting comfortably, her legs covered in a lamb's wool blanket staring pensively out the window. As she lowers herself into the seat facing her, the blonde turns to her and asks, "Do you think it's over?"

The brunette shrugs. "He's a man of his word. As long as we make sure no one else finds out that we survived, they'll leave us alone."

"Your family—"

"Knows enough to keep this quiet. They're not stupid enough to trust anyone at the agency again." She smiles. "I know you're worried but we're alive, we're free and we're together." She leans forward and places a gentle hand on the blonde's lap. "We'll be just fine. How are your legs feeling?"

The blonde stretches out her legs toward the brunette and wiggles her toes. "They still tingle, Vi."

"It's 'Alison' now. Alison Blaire, and you're Lillian Morgana." Alison slides her plush seat closer to Lillian's and takes the proffered foot onto her lap. She begins to gently massage the toes. "You're lucky they tingle. How much longer will you need the crutches?"

"Doctor said I should keep using them for a few more months. The nerves have all regenerated but the muscles are still developing." She wiggles her toes again. "That feels nice, V…Alison." She purses her lips and glances up in contemplation, "Can I call you 'Ally?'"

The brunette considers this for a minute. "So, we'd be Ally and Lilly?"

"Or Lilly and Ally."

"Definitely not."

Lilly sticks out her tongue. "Keep that up and I'll tell Lucy I don't want to meet that record producer she knows."

Allison laughs. "Lilly and Ally it is then." She holds out one hand and pats the seat next to her. "C'mon over here, Lil."

The blonde scrunches her face up in mock consternation. "'Lilly,' I can live with. I don't know if I want to reward you for calling me 'Lil'."

"There are kisses and snuggles over here."

"I'd be a fool to pass up kisses and snuggles, wouldn't I?" She carefully negotiates the gap between them and settles in next to her love. As promised, there were kisses and snuggles.

"Promise me that when you're a super successful pop star, you'll still have room for me in your seat and there will always be kisses and snuggles."

Alison grins and clasps the blonde tighter. "If you'll promise me that you'll always be there to remind me of what is important."

"I'm not going anywhere."

Fin.

* * *

_**A/N 2:**__ You didn't think I'd actually kill Violet did you? Of course you did. And I would too, I would totally kill her. I didn't, but I totally would. I learned that from Joss Whedon. I also stole that reunion scene from him. Anyway, that brings us to the true ending of this little tale. I hope you forgive me for the fake-out and rejoice with me in the fact that it was a fake-out._

_"What happened next?" you ask. I really don't know. It's time for you to use your imagination. _

_I'd like to think that Violet went on to some success in the music industry under the name Alison Blaire. Maybe she even found a way to help the other supers save the world. Mirage probably stayed in the background as her very supportive girlfriend/manager. _

___Yeah, that's a nice picture. We'll go with that. _

_However, the music industry is fickle and after a few years, Alison's star may have faded. When that happened, they might have moved south and set up house somewhere far away from the hustle and bustle of the urban environments where they grew up, maybe on a nice beach. Of course, f you've been a world famous super and then a world famous pop-star, just sitting on the porch of your bungalow, sipping margaritas might get boring. So, maybe they go out every once in a while and lend help to those who need it. Not for profit or fame, just because, sometimes, saving the world isn't about stopping a super villain's mad scheme to take over the word or preventing a natural disaster from destroying a city, it's helping a young Chilean boy coax his water buffalo out of a creek. _

_Can you picture them? They're coming home to that bungalow. They're wet and maybe a little muddy but they've got big smiles on their faces. Watch as they clean up and have a light dinner before moving out to that porch where they enjoy a friendly, giggle-filled debate about whether it was a water buffalo or a Cebu. And, as the sun sets in the Pacific, they hold hands and remember a moment a million miles and a million years away when a young couple danced on a balcony and let themselves fall into a love they never fell out of._

* * *

_Many years later…_

Joe Bartel sat in the big comfy chair facing the wide bay windows overlooking the courtyard. "Bring me my scrapbook, dear." He said to the young woman standing behind him.

"I don't know why you still want that old thing, grandpa." She said disapprovingly. "All those stories are just urban myths." But she brought him the book and left him to enjoy it in peace.

As he turned the pages looking at the various newspaper articles and blurry photos, he smiled. Over the last four decades a legend had emerged in South America. In the stories, two women would appear out of nowhere and help those in need. One was fair of skin with pitch black hair, the other had skin as dark as walnut and hair the color of snow. In the Transverse Valleys of Chile they were known as Earth and Sky. In the mountains of Peru they were called Sun and Moon. In the jungles of Belize the locals referred to them as Hunab Ku. Occasionally a US tabloid would run a story about the "Legend of Ying and Yang," a pair of mismatched, unlikely, female heroes who specialized in saving drowning livestock.

One thing was consistent in all the stories; they never asked for anything in return and they always appeared together.

* * *

_**A/N 2(supplemental)**__ Hey! You were right about the water buffalo. What are the odds?_

**_Final thought- _**_One of the__ reasons why it took me so long to write the end of this is that, while I knew Violet survived and they would eventually find each other, every time I wrote the scene where she faked her death, it read as her faking her death. I figured if the reader could tell it was faked, so could the Agency and that would mean they'd never have peace. So, I had to write a believable death scene for Violet. It was hard because I really didn't want to kill her. Even if she was going to come back the next chapter. Some of my readers guessed what was happening, some hoped for a different ending, some even lobbied for a complete rewrite of the story. I take all of those things as compliments because it means you were engaged in the story, in the characters and in my world.  
_

_As always, I need to thank King in Yellow for being my linchpin. He insisted that this story have a happy ending from the very beginning (that's 5 years ago, for those of you keeping track) and he stuck with me and the story the whole time. I would love to hear from you about how you felt along our journey through this little slice of the Incredibles' universe. Cuss me out for making you think that Violet was dead, crow about how you knew she was faking it, point out all the little plot holes and errors I made along the way, tell me how wonderful I am, tell me how fucked up I am... I want to hear it all. And remember, every signed review gets a response, even reviews for old stories. (I would respond to unsigned reviews but there is no mechanism in place for that here at ffnet.) Then, go over to KiY's profile and thank him for insisting on a happy ending and keeping this story from being a complete train wreck._


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